Cage of Lies
by CrazyAni
Summary: Five years after RotS, everyone thinks that Padme is dead. But she's hiding from the rest of the world, broken in body and soul. Will Anakin find out that she's still alive? AP, major AU
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Cage of Lies  
**Genre:** Drama/Angst, some Romance  
**Characters:** Padme, Anakin, Obi-Wan and some others.  
**Timeframe:** five years post RotS  
**Note:** No Darth Vader here - Anakin didn't turn, and he won't turn.  
**Summary:** Five years passed after the rise of the Empire and foundation of the Rebel Alliance. Due to a mysterious events that took place five years ago, everyone thinks that Padme had died, but she lives quietly on a small planet in the Outer Rim, too afraid to face the one who she still loves. She thinks that it's too late to turn back, but is it true?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the universe of the Star Wars, all the characters belpng to Georgie Lucas. No profit is being made, this is story was written for fun and meditating purposes only.

**Cage of Lies**

**Chapter One**

Some people say that time heals every wound.

Others say that a broken heart can never be mended, and a life already lived can never be lived again.

Some say that true love prevails every obstacle. But what if some words have been spoken that should never have been said aloud? What if nothing can ever make it right?

In the past five years, I have agonized about these questions. I could never arrive at an answer, because there is none.

Who am I?

Only few years ago, I was a brilliant Senator, a loving wife and a mother.

Who am I now?

I'm an outcast. I'm a traitor. I'm a coward. I hide behind a shell because I'm not strong enough to come out. I wallow in guilt, but there is no one who can make me feel better. Do I want to feel better? Do I deserve it?

Life has never been easy for me. Before I met _him_, I was like a lost moon, circling around the empty space, continuing to function simply because I had to. Because I had responsibilities. But one assassination attempt at my life did change everything – I met _him_. I found my personal sun. But even then, life was not perfect. In one way, it had become better. But it had also become worse, because there had been much more to lose.

I had spent countless nights worrying about him, plagued by nightmares of his brilliant eyes staring lifelessly at the dark sky. Each time he returned back to me, I felt at peace as I could see his handsome face again and feel his strong arms around my waist. Every time was a miracle, and I felt alive.

Yet, the day which was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives, was the day our life crumpled around us.

I watch the rain drops fall gracefully from the darkened sky, the tiny drops running down my windowpanes like miniature waterfalls. The storm had been raging the whole day, and the rain had never ceased to fall. The chrono behind my back beepes – a shrill sound in the dismal quietness. It was time to close the store.

My hoverchair buzzes softly as I make my path between the shelves. I smile to the last customers, the act feeling foreign to my facial muscles. I close the door behind them and leane against it, exhaling wearily. Each day is a grey and dull routine, dragging for what seemed eternity. Then night falls down, and the past haunts both my waking and dreaming states. It reminds me of my stupidity, cowardice, and unfaithfulness.

Even though I am exhausted, I linger in the shop, straightening the holopads out and brushing away the dust. The lights of a vehicle flash outside, drawing out the silhouettes of the stormtroopers and the slashes of the splattering rain.

Deralia is a quiet planet in the Outer Rim, untouched by the Clone Wars and not as polluted by the Empire yet. People here haven't heard the glorious tales of the Hero With No Fear, or about Senator Amidala. They don't know that five years ago, I turned into one of the most disdained persons in the galaxy from one of the most respected ones. Yes, this planet was a perfect place to start a new life. For the citizens, I am Raaja Kaaleh, a handicapped but cheerful consultant in the holo and datapad store – the mask I force myself to wear every day.

I hover up the stairs into my room – a small space on the first floor. I light a candle, and the dim fire illuminates the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. There isn't much – only a narrow bed, small closet and a desk. In my old life, I was always surrounded by luxury and a small army of handmaidens that were always eager to help. My bed was always large, made with soft, silky sheets. My closet was always huge. I had taken none of this into my seclusion here on Deralia.

I zoom towards the fresher. During the five years since the ability to walk had been robbed from me, I have become quite capable of taking care of myself. I am handicapped, but I am not helpless - or, at least not physically. I turn the water on, and, carefully, slide from the hoverchair, lowering myself into the tub. The water splashes merrily onto my skin; my torso prickling from its hot stream. Clouds of steam rise in the moist air, obscuring my useless legs and my plump, aged body. I close my eyes and set my face directly under the stream, letting the water wash away the tears I can not shed anymore. Five years had passed since Palpatine had injured me, but no matter what I try to tell myself, I still have not come to terms with it. I was beautiful and pure once, but now I am ugly and dirty.

When my torso has become almost as numb as my legs, I turn off the water and towel myself dry. My skin is raw and red from rubbing in the vain attempt to scrub away the dirt that wasn't there or at least not on the outside. I stretch my hand out to wipe the fog off the mirror so I can see my changed reflection.

A mature, aged woman stares back at me. In five years, I seem to have aged ten. My damp hair falls loosely on my plump face. My face still bears traces of its former beauty but is hidden by the creases around my listless eyes and by the bitter edge of my once crimson lips. My ugliness is my disguise and my prison.

It was still raining outside when I returned to my room, the winnowing wind pushing the tiny, crystal-like drops to my windows. The night was thick with my misery, and the skies wept with me.

The distinct, ghostly white silhouettes of the storm troopers are a patch of white colour in the glum darkness of the storm. I chuckle to myself as I yank the brush through my hair. They were always watchful, always on guard, always eager to catch the few of the surviving Jedi who had joined the Alliance. Each time I see these unnatural, white figures, a voice tells me that my place was out there, with the Rebels, helping fighting the tyranny. But I am too afraid. Five years ago, I had chosen to stand by, to watch the evil spread its tentacles across the galaxy. There is no coming back now. It is too late.

Five years ago, I was declared dead. No one knows that Padmé Amidala is still alive. Not even _he_ knows. He continues fighting for freedom, trying to avenge my death.

What would he think if he found out that his wife was still alive? Would he smile one of his beautiful smiles, draw me into his arms and tell me that he forgives my wrongdoings? Or would he silently turn around and walk away? Would he linger just to tell me that he despised me now? Would he still want me after five years of lies, as ugly and disabled as I am now? I am no use to him now. I do not want to be a burden for my husband.

I would be frightened to look into his blue eyes and find nothing but contempt there. Anakin had been the most caring, the most loyal, and most devoted man I have ever met. Betrayal is the only thing he can never forgive. And it had been I who had betrayed him; twice.

There have been countless times when my resolve has wavered and I have stretched my arm to grab the commlink; determined to contact my Knight just to hear his voice again. I always stopped when images of his disgusted face flitted into my head, the blue orbs no longer warm and filled with love. My hand always jerked away as though surged by electricity.

Some truths are better remaining hidden.

Flying towards the desk, I pull out a small, wooden box – the only tangible evidence that Padmé Amidala had ever existed. Tracing my fingers down the carvings on the wood, I sigh. Was it wise to look at these items every day? Wouldn't it be wiser just to burn them? But the temptation is too sweet, too strong. A large part of me will not easily part with the person I had once been.

Making up my mind, I draw the lid open, very slowly, as though unwillingly. A braid, a holo cube and a holopad lay inside. Smiling to myself in reminiscence, I take out the braid. After all these years, I am still mesmerised by the gentle symphony of golden shades playing in the dim candle light. For an outsider it is only a lock of hair, but, to me, it is my most valued possession.

Next, I take out the holo-cube and activate it. A flickering image of a smiling Anakin appears before me. Even though by now I know his features better than my own, I observe him, trying to imagine that he is real, not transparent. With trembling, thick fingers of an old woman, I stroke his youthful cheek, but my fingers just touch blue air. His intangibleness is another sore reminder that the old days are gone, wiped away by the wind and washed away by the rain.

Only one item remains – the item that stands for the end of our days together. Slowly, I pick up the holopad and activate it. The blue image of Anakin and I kissing passionately screams at my eyes. This picture had been taken on the day when the Clone Wars had officially ended, the day my husband had returned from a five month tour in the Outer Rims. Above the image, there are seven words that pushed the galaxy into the turmoil. Only seven insignificant words, but they had changed everything. _"Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala secretly married."_

I feel an all too familiar, salty taste on my lips. I did not realise I am crying. I de-activate the pad and throw it into the box, snapping the lid shut with more force than necessary. Some secrets were indeed hidden forever, and some memories are better left in the past, where they belong.

Carefully, I slide from my hover chair and curl myself on my bed, pulling the blanket over my head. It is cold. The sound of pouring rain is a lullaby to my tired ears as I drift to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello! Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback, you encouraged me to write a bit more about Padmé.

I apologize for the confusion about Luke and Leia's fates – when I posted the first chapter, I was still a bit undecided what to do with them. I didn't even know if I would write more. I went back and edited it. They are alive, in any case. : )

My wonderful betas didn't have the chance to look at the chapter. I guess I didn't give them the chance to. I promise that I'll wait for them for the next part!

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I love you all very much, even those of you (187, to be precise) who read the story without thinking to give me feedback…

I hope you enjoy. : )

**Chapter Two**

_I didn't perceive the muffled voices of the reporters and my fellow Senators behind the large pillars of which we were hiding. None of it mattered in his arms, anyway. My heart pounded fervently in my ribcage, I felt my baby's heart beating in harmony with my own as I watched his reaction warily, too worried to breathe. Seconds might have turned into minutes, and minutes into hours, but he hadn't moved, his penetrating blue gaze locked into my face. I couldn't force myself to look away and waited…waited…waited. _

_He frowned but still didn't say anything. His mouth quivered slightly – in anger or in delight? Why did he keep silent? Didn't he want us? _

_Then, slowly, agonisingly slowly, the blue of his eyes seemed to melt, and the edges of his mouth curled into a slight smile. He pulled me closer, still smiling. _

_"Padmé…this is wonderful." His voice broke, and his genuine smile grew. _

_The baby kicked as though impatient to meet its father. I felt my face breaking into a shy grin as my arms automatically pulled him closer. _

_"Are you happy?" I asked, still unable to believe that he was here, in my arms, thrilled to be a father. _

_He laughed in response, his deafening, contagious laughter the best music to my ears. Still laughing, he pulled me up and, as effortlessly as though I weighed ten pounds, whirled me around. The world turned into a blur of dim colours, and his perfect face, literally shining with happiness, was the centre of it. This reaction spoke more than a million eloquent words ever could. Vaguely, I heard myself joining in, my silver laughter accompanying his now, in the most perfect moment of our lives. _

_After an immeasurable amount of time, he put me down, still grinning. I grinned back. Time seemed to stop, and the rest of the world might have died for all I knew as we stood there, bathed in the rays of our happiness. There was no war, no political intrigues, no more nightmares. Somehow, we would figure everything out, we would find a way to be happy and raise out baby – I could read it in his blue eyes, and I believed him. _

_Not tearing his gaze from me, Anakin bent down and, very gently, pressed his soft lips against mine. Sparks of electricity ran down my entire body from his touch and I gave in into the kiss – a perfect mixture between passion and tenderness. I ignored the fact that there were dozens of Holo Reporters looming around, that we were in the Senate building. What did it matter, anyway, as long as Anakin was there kissing me? _

_But the voice of reason in my head didn't want to give up, and, very reluctantly, I broke apart from him, disentangling myself from his embrace. _

_"Anakin, we can't," I panted breathlessly. _

_Something like fury seemed to pass over his cerulean gaze. His jaw tightened. _

_"I'm tired of the secrecy, Padmé." _

_I stared back at him helplessly. I was tired of it too, but what choice did we have? What would happen to us if we got found out? Somehow, I knew that it was wrong of us to show our affection for each other here, in this hall. The baby kicked me, reminding me to be careful. _

_Almost roughly, Anakin pulled myself to him. I didn't resist. My feeble arms had no strength compared to his iron grip, and my willpower seemed to crumple from one glance at his dazzling, cerulean eyes. My breath incredibly hot and hard in my throat, I stood, unmoving, my half-open mouth inviting him in. _

_"You're my wife, and I want to kiss you whenever I want." His voice was only a husky whisper. _

_His hot breath trickled my cheek, his burning gaze making my knees wobble. He looked so strong, yet so young, so vulnerable. Ignoring the voice of reason, I pulled his face closer to mine, toying with his golden locks. Why did I feel worried, as though something was choking me? My husband was kissing me, the thing I'd been craving for months Why did I receive such a stupid premonition? _

_The edge of my consciousness perceived footsteps approaching us. I ignored them. Something flashed, like a holo picture had been taken. Anakin tensed, and we broke apart. As though in trance, I turned my head into the direction of the intrusion. I heard another sickening, strident sound of a camera before the flash, a furious bolt of lightning, blinded me. Vaguely, I could fell Anakin's hands rubbing my shoulders, but for the first time in my life, his embrace didn't bring comfort to me- on the contrary, I felt even worse. _

_Finally, my eyes re-adjusted to the darkness. There were people – many people – surrounding us. Some looked appalled, some were disapproving, but the majority was shocked. My eyes switching from one face to another, I could see my friend Bail Organa wearily putting his face in his hand. My breath cold and hard in my throat, I recognized some of my fellow Senators. Their faces seemed to be made out of stone, their eyes cold and disbelieving. Panic rising in me with each passing millisecond, I peered into the dark, judging crowd. One face stood out from the mass surrounding us for its chalky, unnatural pallor. Chancellor Palpatine stared at us, his face inscrutable, but I could have sworn I seen his thin lips curled into the tiniest ghost of smiles with his coal black eyes gleaming. _

_My head started spinning and my knees must have been shaking, for the faces suddenly stared wobbling. I swayed slightly. Anakin caught me, not tearing his gaze from the Holo Reporters around us. He had the fatigued, overpowered appearance of someone being cornered. I was sure I looked exactly the same. _

_Then my world turned into the blinding blur of flashes, and everything else disappeared. _

I jerk awake. In the absolute quietness, I can almost hear my heart beating frantically. With a shaking hand, I wipe the perspiration beading down my forehead. Sitting up, I place pressing my hands tightly to my temples. This dream continues to plague me for five years, reminding me of my recklessness. The happiest moment of my life had turned into one of the most dreadful one in only few seconds. After that day, our lives had fallen apart. If only I had known then that was just the beginning. That the real hell was just beyond the flashing lights of the cameras….

My breath is still rattling, I pull the curtains apart and glance out of the window. Flashes from the cameras still dancing in fury before my eyes, I blink, trying to make the surroundings out. The sun has already risen, but it is gloomy outside. It appears as if the rain had not ceased to fall. The street is a long, black shiny ribbon, covered with puddles. There are few people outside, but the number of the troopers had multiplied considerably, their usually sparkling white armour covered with patches of mud.

I chuckle mirthlessly as I put the curtain back into its place. Why are there so many troopers here, on Deralia? Are they trying to catch someone? I have no answer for that. Why should a consultant be bothered by it, anyway? I have no ties to the Rebellion, I say to myself as I grab my clothes. There is no reason I should be worried. If there is a fugitive, there is nothing I can do for him.

"Morning, Raaja," a voice behind my back greets me. I whirl around from the stack of holopads I was trying to straighten out.

"Hello, Kaya."

The girl breaks into a huge grin and strides to the desk, her red hair swaying gracefully behind her. Kaya is another consultant at the shop, the only friend in my new life. Giving up the struggle with the stubborn stack of pads, I flow towards the desk, feeling a smile passing over my face. Kaya is a young girl, always cheerful and full of life. In some ways, her behaviour reminds me often of Anakin – she has the same untamed spirit, the same compassion, the same impatience. She is the only one who could make me smile.

Kaya drumms her fingers against the desk, watching me with sparkling eyes. She has something important to tell me, that much was clear.

"What is it, Kaya?" I ask curiously.

Kaya lowers herself on the chair so we are the same level, and looks away, blushing slightly. I can feel my smile widen and my impatience growing. After several torturous moments, she finally faces me again, blushing even more.

"Tilo proposed to me," she blurts out, an authentic smile passing over her pretty features.

I gaped at her and she stares back at me, still grinning. I cannot believe what I hear. Kaya is so young, and she wants to get… married. I push back the thought that I was even younger when I got married myself. The melancholic memories of my past life are really inconvenient at such a moment – and I attempt to concentrate on the present. Technically, Kaya is not much younger than I. She is a couple of years younger than Anakin as far as I know. But she is still so pure, innocent, and full of life. I feel ancient compared to her. Well, I _look_ ancient compared to her.

"Congratulations," I stutter, moving forward to hug her. She returns my hug enthusiastically, laughing softly. "This is a bit …unexpected," I say when we end our embrace.

Kaya shrugs. "Tilo and I have been together for five years. It's not that unexpected - I think the right word for our situation would be 'delayed'."

I nod understandingly. "Men are annoying." And I had been married to one of the most annoying of the male species.

The bell rings, announcing the arrival our first customer. It is a human male, clad in a huge, dark brown cloak. He literally flows into the shop as though it is some kind of a safe heaven. Noticing out mildly surprised gazes, he starts looking around, randomly taking one pad after another.

Kaya quirks one eyebrow and shakes her head almost unnoticeably. "He doesn't look like someone who likes to read romance," she says, jerking her head into the direction of the customer, who becomes interested into a rubbishy romance novel.

I roll my eyes. Kaya sniggers softly.

"People can surprise you," I comment dryly.

"Indeed." She stares at the ceiling, her eyes taking a far away, dreamy expression I know only too well.

"Do your parents approve?"

Quiet footsteps approach us. "Excuse me," a male voice says shyly. I look up and see the customer stand before us, a stack of holo pads in his hands. His eyes are surprisingly clear and penetrating, as though he has more than only his eyesight to rely on… I tense.

Kaya jumps up at once, seemingly oblivious to the eerie aura of mystery around this man.

"They're probably even happier about it than I am," she shoots over her shoulder, hurrying to the customer.

"Hello. How can I help you?" I hear her say.

I grin at her. I am happy for her – she is my friend, my only friend. But her happiness makes me even more aware of my own misery. The hardest part is, that there is no one to blame. It was I who ruined my own life and the lives of so many others.

I feel my smile vanish slowly.

Casting a surreptitious glance at Kaya who is busy with the customer, I pull out a transmitter from the pocket of my robe. It is the special transmitter that connected me to the only ones who know that Padmé Amidala is still alive – it connects me to my parents. Somehow, the news of Kaya's marriage triggers the feelings in me that I am fighting for years to subdue – the longing, the anguish, the terrible, choking sadness…

My fingers shake and my breath is cold in my chest as I press the button that would tie me to the real world, the world I once belonged to. There is nothing there except for the dismal, unnerving silence of the device. I draw in a shaky breath as I stare at the still silent gadget, a black and dead shape in my trembling hands.

One could say that it had been my parents who took the first step at ruining my life. But who could blame them? They acted only in the name of love. They wanted the best for me. Had I told them about my marriage, about my pregnancy, things might have played out differently. I hadn't betrayed only Anakin; I had also betrayed my parents. I could only imagine how hurt, how bitter they must have felt as they learned the whole truth about my love from the Holonet…

During the night when I am choked by my misery, crying into my pillow under the anguishing howling wind, it is easier to put the blame on my parents.

Those times were dark for all of us. Even now, I still don't want to know what thoughts must have crossed their minds when they had found me lying on the floor of my apartment, broken by Palpatine, with a panicked Threepio fussing helplessly above me. They only helped me enter my cage of lies out of pure love – a cage that might have been empty if I had shown more courage and devotion.

"Padmé?" I hear a voice calling me.

Shaking my head to snap back into the present, I focus my eyes on the blue, transparent shape of my mother in my trembling hand.

"Mum," I breathe out, smiling. "How are you?"

"Oh, we are fine," she replies casually, scrutinising me. "There is nothing major going on. How are you doing?"

I shrug. "Business is booming." Kaya's enthusiastic voice in the background confirmed my proposition, causing me to wonder idly which holo she is trying to sell. "Kaya is getting married," I blurt out.

My mother's eyebrows rise. "But she's still so young!"

"She looks young," I correct flatly, "but she's not much younger than I."

Something passes over my mother's face as she shakes her head back and forth without noticing it. I cringe inwardly, preparing myself for another speech of getting on with my life. Doesn't she understand that I don't want to?

"She must be happy."

"She is," I respond quietly, smiling slightly. Mother frowns.

"Everyone seems to enjoy their lives."

I sigh inwardly. Here it comes again – the talk about my misery, the looks of pity I can't stand anymore…

My mother tilts her almost grey-haired head, her forehead creased. "You look awful, darling," she chides gently.

I lower my head, fidgeting with my thickening, rough fingers of an aged woman. "I know." I know only too well how awful I look now… too awful-looking for _him_…

"You should go out more often. Meet new people."

I raise my head in disbelief, feeling the familiar scorching, bitter sensation in my stomach. Go out? Does she mean hover out? Or crawl out, leaving my horrible chair at home?

"Padmé, you're still young. Enjoy your life. It is not over-" Jobal insists gently.

"Mum, I have no life," I interrupt her angrily, my eyes stinging. "My life was over when I woke up from coma, disabled, and found out that I was dead. I don't want a life. I don't deserve it!"

My mother looks panicked, but I can also see traces of grief in her once big, brown eyes. I know she blames herself for the miserable imitation of life I am leading now. I let her. It is so much easier to blame someone else for my mistakes. Sometimes, I even blame Anakin. My half-life would be so much simpler if I didn't love him so much, if there was no part of me that craved to see him again.

"Don't say that, sweetheart," she retorts, her uncertain voice hiding a hint of a plea. "Padmé, you're young and still strikingly beautiful. You'll find another man who will fall in love with you. You'll have more children-"

My facial expression must have made her stop for she abruptly stops speaking, eyeing me sympathetically. Her pitiful stare makes me feel even worse. I hate when people look at me like that – it makes me painfully aware of my crippled condition. I cast a furtive glance at the shop, afraid that Kaya might have noticed something. I trace her and sigh in relief: she is busy with trying to sell the most lousy data pad I've seen, being a bit over-enthusiastic about it.

"Beautiful…," I repeat sarcastically, my gaze sweeping over my formless, plump body in the hover chair, over my dead-looking, once curly hair.

The pity in my mother's eyes makes me nearly sick. I want to yell at her, to make a tantrum in the stupid shop, to pull my hair out. But I restrain myself – it would only make her pity me more. I take a deep breath instead and try to calm down.

"Mum-" I begin. To my immense relief, my voice sounds firm and guarded. "I don't want any other man... "I don't want any more children. Not from someone else." As though I can have children in my disabled condition.

Jobal purses her lips. "But children would brighten your life," she protests weakly. "It's a pure joy watching a tiny, adorable creature sleep. Its happiness is beyond description, watching them take their first steps, saying their first words…" Her voice trails off as she smiles in reminiscence, looking down, unseeingly.

To my horror, I feel my eyes burning. "Children are not like flowers, Mum," I counter, my voice sounding strange to my ears, as though something were choking me. "You can't just have them whenever you want. It's a gift. It's something that is born out of love, not because you feel lonely."

Jobal cringes. "Those are great words, Padmé," she says quietly. "But I can't believe that you're still not over him, after all these years."

"I'll never be."

The pity intensifies even more. My mother sighs heavily as though bracing herself to tell me something I don't want to hear. "Padmé, Anakin is a young warrior. He's fighting for the Alliance. He thinks that you're dead. So do your children." She averts her eyes. "Five years have passed, Padmé. He's probably moved on. So should you."

She is right in her assumptions. I don't want to hear about it. I take another deep breath, praying that the stinging in my eyes would subdue.

"It doesn't matter that my children don't know me-, "she shifts uncomfortably "- neither does it matter that I don't know them." I pause, my stomach filling with a heavy, icy load.

"I'm not going to live as though nothing happened. I messed up, and I'm paying the price."

My mother opens her mouth so as to say something, but I held my hand, stopping her. It hurt speaking about the past, and I didn't think that I could stop the tears from coming. I cannot take this conversation anymore.

"Mum, someone is coming over," I lie, throwing a quick glance over my shoulder to add more drama. The customer is twirling a holo in his hands, nodding in harmony with Kaya's praises. Somehow, I don't think that he is really interested in buying anything – most likely, he only entered our shop to escape the attention of the troopers. "We might get overheard," I add hastily, turning my attention back to my mother.

Jobal nods, looking disappointed. "All right, then. We'll talk later." Her expression softens, and the pity disappears from her eyes, replaced by a haunted, agonised longing – the feeling I could associate with only too well. "We all miss you."

I feign a smile, swallowing a lump in my throat. "I miss all of you, too," I whisper. "Send my love to everyone."

"I will." She smiles at me one last time, and is gone before I can even blink.

I stare at the suddenly dead device, blinking back tears that threaten to run down my withered cheeks. The edge of my consciousness perceives the animated chatter in the shop, but I am oblivious to it. I feel like I am in a thick, impenetrable cocoon, cut from the rest of the world. Ever since my death, I have always felt like I was different, but at this moment, I realise with loneliness and my situation that this is all my life will ever be. My only friend would get married. My husband had probably moved on….

I move to the more secluded corner of the shop for more privacy – I don't want anyone to see the aged, plump cripple weep silently. I don't think I can stand more pity. Sometimes I even catch traces of pity in Kaya's eyes, and she is the only one who behaves towards me as though I am a normal person.

As my hover chair buzzes, taking me to the farthest row of shelves, I could have sworn that the stranger's penetrating gaze was on my back. It is obvious that he is a fugitive from the Empire. I bite my lip as an impossible thought crosses my mind. Could this visitor be a Jedi, one of the few who survived the Purge? Could he know Anakin and my children?

Unseeingly, I stare at the shelves with the holo pads on politics. People on Deralia aren't interested in politics. They love romance novels where a knight in shining armour would save a beautiful damsel in distress, or the stories of galactic kings and queens from conflicted worlds falling in love with each other, their love stopping the waging war. I've read nearly all of them in the dull hours I got to spend alone, but none of these tales is lively enough to burn into my mind. These are fairy tales where everyone lives happily ever after, where love conquers evil, and the evil Sith Lords are slain by strong, beautiful Jedi Knights. In the real world, love causes evil and the army of the Sith Lord killed the strong Jedi Knights, thousands of them. Does my fairy tale exist in this harsh reality? Do I have a happily ever after?

My fingers shaking, I pull out clumsily the japor snippet he had given me many years ago. _"Something to remember me by,"_ he had said, his voice thick with cold. I smiled at the memory of his blue eyes, already dazzling even though he was only nine back then, as I trace my fingers down the carvings. How could I forget ever him? But could he forget me?

I bit my lip, visualising Anakin, young and powerful, talking to a female Rebel. I couldn't see what her face would be like, but I knew that she would be attractive and strapping, perhaps even-aged with him. Someone who he would fight side-by-side with, someone he would get to see every day…Someone who would be like a mother to the children that I willingly chose to abandon.

Had Anakin and I ever had a future together? Everything had seemed so simple before we were discovered. Before that, we thought that revealing our secret would make our lives easier. But everything fell apart, piece by piece, day by day.

The memories of the past would always haunt me. Hidden by the shelves, I can see the mysterious customer pay for his holos. Five years have passed since I have last encountered a Jedi, yet I was sure that one of them stumbled into our shop now. I watched the Jedi walk out of the shop, his posture wary, on guard. Somehow, I had the feeling that the arrival of the Jedi was an omen for the past finally catching up with me.

But would this encounter be just an insignificant brush of our fates, or was it just the beginning of something greater?

More importantly, am I ready to face the demons from my past?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello! I apologize for a short delay. I've planned to post this chapter much, much sooner.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed – without you, I'd never been able to complete the third chapter. Your comments drive me on to write more, and try to write better. I love you for that!

Thanks to everyone who read it. I'm still surprised that anyone would want to read something _I_ write.

I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

The sun rays turned slowly from gold to crimson and then from crimson to dark violet. The dim light of the falling night makes the shelves in the distance look ominous, as though something sinister were hiding behind them, waiting for its hour to come. Another day of my life passed like hundreds of others before it.

A glimpse of white armour outside my window catches my attention. I frown as I grab the dust brush to make my usual sweeping round before closing the store. There are too many storm troopers outside…Can the stranger be connected to their arrival? Who is he? Why am I so unnerved by his appearance? He could be no one, just a peasant. I proceed in cleaning the shelves while my mind is still haunted by that man. Kaya hums nearby, her slender figure dancing between the shelves as she straightens the stacks out, making everything perfect for the next day…and the next one…and the next one.

How long will this bleak routine continue? Am I courageous enough to bring myself into the world of the living again? It is so easy – the only thing I need to do is contact Anakin. I still have the transmitter that he constructed specifically for our use during the Clone Wars…

The white, artificial lights in the shop flicker alive. The street and the Storm Troopers disappear only to be replaced by the reflection of countless shelves and a prematurely aged woman, her eyes full with ancient grief. I was raised in a household full of love, sun and hope, eager to have a bright future. Is my life now the future I imagined myself to have? Is it the future my parents wished for me?

My first blow to my parents had been my secret wedding, followed by my pregnancy, and my love for the man who I wasn't supposed to fall in love with. Then came the second, more terrible one: the loss of their daughter's position as a Senator, reputation, and destiny. I can still remember the first time I saw them after the secret of my marriage had been broadcasted across the HoloNet.

_I stood at the balcony of the apartment that no longer belonged to me, wrapping my arms around my waist. The baby kicked me and I nearly stumbled from the power of its kick. Was it trying to reassure me, or was it vexed? I couldn't tell. I watched the tremendous shape of the Jedi Temple hidden by the gauzed curtain of traffic from my eyes. Anakin's fate was being decided now within those magnificent, distant walls, and there was nothing I could do. He had violated the Code in the most cruel and dishonoured manner by marrying me.. Would he still be allowed to stay a Jedi Knight, to be the person he was born to be? _

_A gentle gust of wind dishevelled my curly hair, throwing the tendrils into my face. The world became obscured by the dark haze that was the curtain of my hair. The speeders flew in every direction before me, each following its own destination, its own fate. What was my fate now? I rubbed my shoulders in a vain attempt to warm them as I heard a dark, booming voice speaking words in my head again – the same words that were slowly killing a part of me. _

_"Your position as a Senator is hereby revoked." _

_ I heard them over and over again. I wasn't Senator Amidala. I was just Padmé. Hadn't this been my dream? Hadn't I spent countless nights awake, dreaming of the moment when I would decline my duty as a Senator, when Anakin would leave the Order and we would go to Naboo? It would have been just the two of us and the baby living a quiet, happy life. Somehow, this possibility didn't seem as appealing as it had seemed earlier. _

_"Padmé?" a quiet voice spoke behind my back. _

_I tensed and whirled around, the wind throwing my robe into a graceful arch. The persons I had last expected to see, the persons I had hurt in so many unimaginable ways by my secrecy, were standing before me with guarded expressions. My parents. _

_"How- " I stuttered, taking a step towards them. "Threepio- " _

_My father waved his hand dismissively. "He had no other choice - we just brushed past him." _

_My mother ran forward and embraced me fiercely. "Oh, Padmé, how are you?" She cried into my shoulder as I returned the hug awkwardly, patting her back, feeling at total loss at what to say. Finally, she took a step back, smiling through tears. "You're huge." _

_I stretched my face into a smile and gestured with my hand to the sofas. _

_"Can I get you something?" I asked them as we took a seat. They shook their heads no. _

_A thick, uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. The soft wind fluttered into the room, toying gently with my hair as I looked everywhere but not at the two people before me. I scrutinised the drawing behind my father's back, the sound of traffic a strident noise in my ears. I could feel their gazes penetrating me. _

_My father cleared his throat, and the silence was broken. Unwillingly, I tore my eyes from the painting and fixed on him, trying to look calm. _

_"How long?" He didn't need to clarify what he meant. _

_I chose to focus on my knees instead – somehow, it was much easier than to endure my parents' eloquent eyes. "Three years." My voice was only a whisper, barely audible against the noise from outside. _

_"Why didn't you tell us?" _

_I fidgeted with my robe. "I couldn't." _

_"You know that we wouldn't have betrayed your secret," my mother said gently. Reluctantly, I looked up and met her gaze, hurt but full of love nonetheless. I could feel my lips tremble, the tears I was trying to hold for so long welling up in my eyes. _

_"I'm sorry," I croaked, biting my lip. The baby kicked me, reminding me of its presence, that I had not only myself to worry about. _

_"I'm so sorry," I repeated, covering my mouth with my shaking hand. What more could I say? That I had been scared and confused? That I had been scared for my Jedi husband, for his future? That I was sorry for falling in love with a man who was forbidden to love? _

_Jobal jumped up and hurried to pull me into her arms, patting my back. "It's alright, Padmé," she said, stroking my back. "We understand. These are hard times for you." _

_I sobbed into her shoulder, feeling my baby crying with me. It was unnatural how strongly connected we were – I could sense every primitive emotion of the tiny being, allowing me to know exactly what it needed. Would the connection hold when the baby was born? Was it like this for all mothers, for the ones carrying non-Force-sensitive children? Could my mother feel the anguish, the desperation I was going through at the moment? I didn't know. I just sobbed into her shoulder, letting my mother, who I'd cut out from my life, comfort me. _

_"Do you love him?" my father asked tentatively when Jobal and I broke apart. _

_I stared at him defiantly. "More than life itself." _

_He sighed and shook his head wearily. I watched him, hating myself. I couldn't even comprehend through how much I'd put them through. My father had been robbed of the chance to give his blessing, to walk me to Anakin, to watch the wedding… He had never had the chance to find out that his little daughter had grown up and was about to become a mother herself. He had learned about my life from the Holo Net…Some daughter I was. _

_"Does he love you?" _

_I smiled at him reassuringly. "He does." If you only knew how much. _

_His eyes narrowed, and I tensed immediately. Sensing that, my mother rubbed my arm, casting a meaningful glance at Ruwee. _

_"Are you sure that he loves you? Padmé, he's a Jedi. They aren't supposed to love, they can't even love." _

_I gasped, my breath hot and scorching in my throat. "Dad- " I choked out, my arms trembling. _

_"Ruwee- "my mother began disapprovingly. _

_He cut us off. "Padmé, he barely knows you! He didn't see you take your first step, he didn't see your first smile. He doesn't know what a wonderful person you are." His eyes softened. "I don't think that he truly appreciates how lucky he is." _

_"And you don't appreciate how lucky you are that I'm married to Anakin," I retorted coldly. _

_My father pursed his lips, his expression reserved, attentive. "Padmé, you're blinded by love." _

_I waited. The crimson rays of the setting sun penetrated the soft curtain, casting delicate shades of pink on my father's creased face. _

_Ruwee took a deep breath. "Sweetheart, what future could the two of you possibly have together?" His voice was very soft, the expression of his dark eyes pained. "Everything is in the open now. You're not a Senator any longer, and Anakin will be expelled from the Order. As soon as your child is born, the Jedi will take him or her from you." _

_"That doesn't change anything," I objected, but my voice didn't sound as certain as I'd like it to be. _

_He pretended as though he hadn't heard me. "Padmé, you sacrificed so much you love for that man – your family, your job, your destiny. You were born to help people, and now you can't do it anymore. And Anakin loves being a Jedi, it's in his blood. Do you think that your love is strong enough to survive if the two of you have lost your purposes in your lives, the things that are most precious to you?" _

_I kept silent. For the first time in my life, I was confused. Was it childish of me to believe that the miracle of true love was enough to prevail every obstacle? _

_The ghost of a smile by the corner of my father's lips told me that he understood that his words had hit the nerve. "Don't misunderstand me, Padmé. We would be more than glad to have both of you if you decide to return to Naboo. I barely know Anakin, but I'm sure that he cares about you, much... I just hope he cares enough." _

_"Ruwee," my mother protested, squeezing my hand. "Leave the two of them alone. It's their life. They both are adults, and they know what they're doing." _

_My father stood up and sat on the other side of me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Padmé. I'm just worried." _

_"I know," I said quietly, watching his pale, tired face, the creases by his eyes accentuated by the rays of the setting sun. _

_"With his child gone, and his destiny taken away from him, I'm afraid that he won't be able to love you any longer. That man was born to be a warrior, and I'm worried that a quiet life won't be enough for him." _

_I hung my head, at loss for words. My father's words opened a black, empty hole in my chest. I sat there, unmoving, my parents by my side, fear slowly clawing at me. What if my father were right? What if Anakin blamed me for losing his life? _

_"Don't forget, we'll always be here for you," my mother said, pulling me closer. I didn't protest, my body moving closer to hers as one of a ragged doll. I could feel myself nod vaguely. Then something cold and slimy stirred in me, sending a wave of blind panic on me. _

_Would I still be able to love Anakin? Would my love for him survive the loss of our child and the sacrifices I'd be forced to make for him? Could I be just Padmé, just Anakin's wife? _

_For the first time in my life, I didn't know the answer. _

The sounds of the bell snap me back into the present. Someone entered the store, even though we are closed. Wheeling around, I move to the entrance, a sinking sensation of who that might be, entering my stomach.

"Excuse me," I hear Kaya start. Then her voice breaks off and she gasps.

I am already close enough to recognise the source of commotion. The mysterious customer from this morning is leaning against the door, clutching his stomach. Thick, dark blood oozes slowly between his fingers. Kaya stands frozen beside him, her hand covering her mouth.

I feel my heartbeat accelerating, my breath hard and alien in my throat. The stranger's hood falls down, revealing his long, dark hair. Sensing my stare, he opens his eyes with a visible strain. A patch of white armour outside catches my attention. Troopers.

His lips move, but he speaks too quietly for me to hear.

"Pardon?" I whisper, feeling more helpless than ever before. I move closer.

"Help…me," he croaks barely audible, his breathing horribly ragged. "Please."

I vaguely feel Kaya glance at me, but I ignore her. Not breathing, I watch the stranger's chalky pale face covered with a sticky layer of perspiration and his slowly closing and opening eyes beg with me. Kaya inhales sharply, but I ignore her once more.

"Help…"

A loud bang at the door breaks me from my trance-like state. Kaya stiffens, her eyes wide with fear. The stranger closes his eyes wearily, his head dropping in a gesture of defeat. Another loud bang reverberates on the room. I hear the trooper's voice command us to let them in - the words can't be distinguished - my mind working fervently on how to get us out of this mess.

"Kaya, grab him and hide," I hiss, pushing her towards him.

She looks panicked. "I-" she begins. I don't let her finish.

"Hide," I growl as another bang shakes the shop.

"In the name of Empire-"

"Do it!" I shout as she still hesitates. The stranger moans quietly, sliding down to the ground as his knees give away. At last, Kaya puts his arm around her shoulders very slowly, helping him up.

"Open the door!" a command thunders in the store, accompanied by another deafening bang.

"Raaja, but what are you- " Kaya begins as she moves away from the door, staggering from the man's weight.

"Don't worry," I reassure her hastily. "I'll figure something out– just hide."

"But-" she doesn't give up, a flicker of surprise crossing her youthful features. I ponder idly whether she had seen me that commanding before. The sickening sound of the pulled triggers come from outside.

"Hurry!" I yell, furious. "They are going to blast down the door!"

Thankfully, she resumes her walking, though they are moving much slower than I'd have wanted them to. There are blood stains on the metallic door. I wipe them hastily away with my own clothes. The trooper shouts more warnings, but I ignore him the best I can – the exact wording would only make me more panicked.

I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Kaya and the stranger are out of the sight range. They are.

"Opening!" I shout as loudly as I can before the troopers can enter the phase of aggressive negotiations. My stomach squirms painfully at this random thought, another reminder of _him_.

I push the button, and the door moves aside with an angry hiss. There is the whole battalion of troopers outside, blasters at the ready. My imagination paints identical, stern faces under their lifeless masks.

"Can I help you?" I ask innocently, backing off and letting some of them enter the shop.

The commander follows me, and the floor whines in pain under his heavy steps.

"We suspect that you're hiding a fugitive Jedi," he replies monotonously, the eyes under the mask roaming over the store. I hold my breath as he glances briefly in the direction Kaya and the Jedi stranger are hiding, but, mercifully, nothing happens – his attention switches back to me.

"I'm alone," I lie, putting on my best political mask. Who would have ever thought that I'd use it again? "I don't know anything about any fugitive Jedi."

The Commander stares down at me. "We saw him enter the shop."

Sweet bantha. I shake my head as though I were confused, trying to hide my intensifying fright. "I told you, I'm alone. No one entered the store."

He doesn't buy it. His hand makes a tiny motion, and more storm troopers enter the shop, spreading over it, searching.

"There is no one here," I repeat. My voice is firm and my face doesn't betray anything, but on the inside, I'm shaking in fear. I'm not scared for my existence – there is nothing more left for me to lose. The fear that's gnawing me is the fear for a part of me that'll die if the Jedi, the sudden link to my past, is caught. Padmé Amidala would never fail to save an innocent life.

Three Storm Troopers enter the row at the back where Kaya and the Jedi are hiding. I hold my breath, the blood pressure behind my ears deafening me. My ears are strained as I listen like I have never listened before, perceiving the slight buzzing of the hoverchair, the clanks in the troopers' armour, the crackling of the floor under their feet. How do the Jedi perceive the world? Can they hear the whispers of the rain, the rustling of the leaves in the forest far away, the sound of a beating heart, and all the faint noises that the human ear could not take in? I don't know – I never asked my husband, and my last chance to learn more of the ways of the Force are about to be robbed from me.

The sound of commotion is loud enough even for my insensitive ears. It isn't much – just the sweet, familiar humming sound of a lightsaber, stifled cries and muffled noises of falling bodies. I straighten in the hoverchair, waiting for the outcome, peering into the shadows. Who was injured there – a friend or a foe? The commander waves his hand, and more troopers head to the back of the room, their posture offensive.

In a fluid motion, the shadows melt, taking shape. The Jedi comes out, incredibly tall and square-shouldered, his dark cloak obscuring his face. He walks as though he had never been injured.

He stops directly in front of the commander.

"You haven't seen anyone in this store," he says softly, waving his hand.

"I haven't seen anyone in this store," the Storm Trooper repeats, his voice strangely detached and monotonous like the one of a machine.

"You and your troop will leave this planet at once," the Jedi continues.

"I and my troop will leave this planet at once."

"Go now."

The commander turns around and exits the store at once, motioning his troopers to follow them. Kaya comes out, her eyes wide in shock. She watches the troopers leave the store one by one. Her grey eyes betray disbelief, but I know Jedi's power enough to know that he's safe for the time being.

"How did you do that?" she asks the Jedi when the last of the Storm Troopers leave. The door slides shut behind them. Nothing remains of their intrusion, except for the bodies at the back…The Jedi starts shaking, his power leaving him. His breathing becomes rattling.

"Mind trick," I reply instead, casting an anxious glance at the Jedi. "I'll explain it to you later," I add hastily. She nods, but I can see that she has many questions, some of which can never be answered.

"Are you alright?" Kaya asks fearfully, grabbing the stranger's arm as his knees give way again. He collapses on the floor, his wound bleeding anew.

Kaya kneels beside him, ripping a piece of her own robe away and pressing the cloth to the wound. It becomes soaked in dark, purple blood within seconds. I move closer to him, inwardly cursing my disabled condition and my inability to help. It is everything I can do to extend my hand and take off his hood.

The Jedi is deathly pale and his eyes are closed. I stroke his forehead, biting my lip in worry. Will I be able to help him, to cure him? There is no one I can go for help – people are too afraid of the Empire. Even Kaya looks hesistant.

His eyes flutter open and he tries to focus on me. He speaks but, at first, I can't comprehend him. Finally, I manage to make some words out, and these words make my heart beat so frantically that I'm afraid it'll explode.

"Padmé…I've … Anakin."


	4. Chapter 4

Hello!

Again, I apologize for the inconvenient delay! I think you know my excuse my now, so I won't go into any details…

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! It's the BEST pre-Christmas present. :D

I'll try to get the next chapter before I go into the self-imposed exile.

Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Four**

The silver light of three moons disperses the quiet, dark room. The moon's rays gently caress the Jedi's face beaded with perspiration and touch my aged hands, which press a wet cloth on his forehead. There is nothing here except for the moon light and the Jedi's rattling breath.

The silver light travels over the humble furniture of my living place, the objects resembling indistinct, sleeping figures in the dim light. Through the open window, I hear the noises of the night ruling over the sleeping planet, but they don't belong into my world. The high-pitched lonely chirping of birds in the neighbouring forest, occasional light of a speeder, and the gentle fluttering of the wind – this world seems foreign to me, as though there has never been anything different besides the injured Jedi lying on my bed and the soft, almost unnoticeable buzzing of the hoverchair.

Kaya helped me tend the man's wound and left, promising not to tell anyone. I believe her – she is not the kind of a person who would betray her friends. Absent-mindedly, I twirl the Jedi's lightsaber, watching it gleam in the cold, silver light. It reminds me of Anakin's, yet it is so much more different – it is smaller, and the design is more delicate. Anakin had never let me toy with his weapon, and then…it was taken away from him. His weapon, his life, his destiny. Only one kiss, and what a horrible price both of us had to pay for that brief moment of passion. That kiss had killed Senator Amidala, and the Hero with No Fear and then set the future of their children. After that kiss Padmé and Anakin had nothing but each other left. Apparently, that was not enough for me.

_Everything appeared to have died. Even the wind coming through the open window couldn't shatter the illusion. It was cold as I rubbed my arms in a vain attempt to warm myself, but I felt too numb to stand up and close the window. I always felt cold ever since I had turned into a disdained nobody from the respected Senator that I once was. The dismal quietness seemed deafening to my ears as I waited for Anakin to return. _

_Time cannot be measured when you are worried to the point that you can't feel anymore. I could have waited years for him, but it could have been mere hours. What did time matter when it was the question of life or death, the most grave trial for our love? Even the baby stopped kicking and waited for its father, as numb and insane with anxiety as I was. _

_Who would be the man who'd enter the door any moment? Would he still be a Jedi Knight, or would he be a nobody, like me? Would he still be a father or just a person who gave life to one of the Jedi yet to be born? Would he still be my husband? _

_Could our love survive if we had no one left? If all our children were to be taken away from us as soon as they were born? If we didn't even have ourselves left?_

"_Padmé," a quiet voice came from the doorway._

_I jerked, the baby kicking me. I wanted to stand up and walk to him, but my body had no strength left. The dark figure on the threshold lowered its head, its golden hair no more gleaming._

"_Ani." My voice was just a whisper, thick with anxiety._

_He crossed the space between us in few steps and lowered himself next to me. My breath choking me, I waited for him to speak. A speeder whooshed dangerously close to my balcony, briefly illuminating his face. It was pale and gaunt – a completely different face than only few hours ago. Anakin put his flesh hand on my belly, and I felt the baby kick under his palm. The kick had a soft, defeated edge to it. _

_The silence was driving me mad. _

"_Ani, what is it?" I asked anxiously, taking his hand into the both of mine._

_He didn't indicate that he'd heard me. He continued communicating with the baby on a level I couldn't understand. A sinking realisation crawled into my stomach, making it drop to the region of my navel._

"_You are expelled, aren't you?" My eyes roamed over his silhouette and stopped at his waist. As long as I could remember, his lightsaber, a sign of belonging to the Order, always hung on his belt. It did not anymore. _

_The silence was my answer. Closing my eyes so tightly that yellow rings started dancing in the blackness, I pulled Anakin closer into my embrace, burying my face into his hair. His scent was the same as I remembered – soothing, incredibly good and familiar – but I had the feeling as though I had a stranger in my arms. _

"_I still can't believe that you were right," Anakin muttered wearily. _

"_What do you mean?" I asked, bewildered, raising my head from my golden pillow. _

"_It is a boy. Luke."_

_I felt my face stretch into a reluctant smile. "Mother always knows."_

_Anakin stirred slightly. "So does a Force-sensitive father." _

"_You're having twins, Padmé," he added as I stayed silent, uncomprehending. "A boy and a girl. Luke and Leia."_

"_How do you- "_

"_They showed me the midichlorian test. Our children are very powerful, Padmé. And I could sense them now, both of them. They are worried."_

_I felt the news sink in, very slowly, like a rose petal descending onto the lake surface. "Twins…"_

"_We will never see them grow up. They will never know their parents." His words, faint and sad, were swallowed by darkness, like everything else before._

_I shook my head back and forth as images of little, beautiful children swirled in my head. What would they look like when they grew up? Would I have a son as strong and handsome as his father, and a daughter, a kindred soul to me? Or would it be another way around? I would never find out._

_Anakin touched my shoulder. He had never shown any shyness in touching me since our marriage, but this faint touch seemed hesitant, as though I were a stranger to him, not his wife. _

"_We will figure something out, Padmé," he said softly, trying to be reassuring. He couldn't fool me. "Nothing has changed. You're not a Senator any more, and I'm not a Jedi. We still love each other."_

_I brushed his arm off and stood up. "No, Anakin. Everything has changed."_

_He cringed at the harshness in my voice, silently demanding me to continue. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. I didn't realise I was shaking. _

"_Our lives have been turned upside down, and everything is your fault." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. My voice rang with truth, and Anakin stiffened, pain rolling off him in waves. Did I really mean what I said? I knew that I did, but, deep down, a part of me knew I was wrong. But I chose to ignore that part of myself as I stood frozen, gauging his reaction._

_In an exaggerated slow movement, Anakin stood up, towering above me. "What do you mean?" His voice was calm, very calm. I knew that tone of voice – it indicated the calm before the storm._

_I chose my words carefully as I stared at his face, obscured by the shadows. "Ani, your recklessness at the Senate hall killed us. If only you hadn't- " I shook my head back and forth, my mouth pressed into a thin line. The words were left hanging in the air, but he understood._

_He run his fingers over his forehead and turned away, walking to the window. "I'm sorry Padmé," he muttered, nearly inaudible. "I haven't seen you in _five_ months-" His voice trailed away as he watched Coruscant at night, his silhouette a black hole against the neon lights of the city. It was amazing how the capital could have stayed the same sea of lights, as though there had been no attack, no casualties, no broken lives. _

"_I know," I replied, my voice nearly as quiet as his, but rising with each word. "Do you have any idea how I felt during these long months, alone and scared? You were out there, fighting, and I was alone. Force, I missed you so much!" _

_Anakin didn't stir, continuing gazing out of the window as though he hadn't heard a word I said. Only his gloved hand balled into a tight fist. _

_Why? Why didn't he say anything? Because everything he could say was that he would no longer love me? Anakin was a warrior. He couldn't sit still, he was bored easily. Was my father right, would a quiet life with me be not enough for him? _

_My love was as strong as it had ever been, but would it always stay that way? In few weeks we would move to Naboo, to the place where we had fallen in love with each other three years ago. It was a dream coming true, what I've been craving for all these years – only Anakin and I, no one else. What did I care what the rest of the world thought? What did it matter that I was a nobody, and Anakin was no longer a Jedi? Was my love for him was strong enough to survive the fact that our children would be taken away from us?_

_But these little things did matter to me regardless how much I tried to convince myself otherwise._

"_Why do I love you so much?" I whispered into the darkness. His fist tightened._

_I felt myself shaking, but it had nothing to do with the cold wind that continued whirling through the apartment. Anakin was so close to me – I could stretch my hand out and reach him, yet he had never felt so distant, so cold, so foreign. What was he thinking? _

_I didn't know, and his ambiguous behaviour killed me. I've read many books about the pain of love, yet none of those eloquent descriptions could match the nauseating, heavy weight in my stomach, and the prickling, agonising fire that spread over my skin._

"_I hate it that you can hurt me so much," I choked out, my hand flying to my mouth. _

_Anakin seemed to have taken a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. He kept silent, his silence making the weight in my stomach even heavier, even more unbearable. _

"_And I hate myself for loving you so much."_

_He stiffened, my words sinking in. Very slowly, as though moving in a thick liquid, he turned around, his eyes gleaming. _

"_Why?" Three letters. One simple word. But it was enough to trigger some chain reaction in me, letting out all the conflicting feelings that bubbled up in me for too long._

"_Because I'm sick of worrying about you so much!" I yelled in a ringing voice, a pain beyond endurance swallowing me. "I'm sick of being scared of losing you to death, or…or- " _

_My voice trailed away and I paused, inhaling sharply. The shadows seemed to be crawling all over Anakin, suffocating him, as he watched me with the most peculiar expression. His face was a lifeless mask, impeccably carved out of stone by a talented sculptor, but there was a savage fire burning in his eyes. He had never looked more vulnerable and more dangerous, and I had never loved…or hated him more._

"_Or what?" he asked calmly, his eyes narrowing. I wasn't Force sensitive, but I could have sworn I could hear the crackling of the air surrounding us, the waves of dark energy swirling with a force of a tornado, and we were at the epicentre. _

_I knew that he would never, ever hurt me, at least physically, yet I could feel the hair on my arms rise as a thrill of genuine fear engulfed me. This only strengthened my resolve._

"_Of losing you to something worse than death," I said slowly, each word distinct. I stared deeply into his cerulean eyes, watching the emotions flicker through them – disbelief, hurt, fear, and many others I couldn't name. For a split second, I believed to see a tinge of yellow colour them, but an instant later I understood that it was only a trick of light._

"_You're a dangerous man, Anakin," I continued as he kept silent. "Think, what would happen if…you turned? Would your love for me turn into hatred? Would you hurt our babies?"_

_When we had been bonded by the sacred ties of marriage three years ago, we had sworn to be honest to each other. But the truth hurt. What was even worse, that I meant every word I've said, and the words that were yet to come. Why couldn't I believe in my husband in our darkest hour, during the times he needed my support like never before? Why was I so consumed by my own fears that I couldn't help him? Why did I have to hurt him so much? Why, oh why, was I so cowardly, so unfaithful?_

_I had no answer to these questions. The pain intensified, spreading all over my skin like tongues of flame. I bit my lip, averting my eyes, for I was unable to endure Anakin's burning gaze any longer. I stared at the floor, unseeingly, every cell of my body screaming at the power of Anakin's penetrating gaze. The babies kicked me. _

"_Padmé…do you honestly think I could become a Sith?" His voice was quiet and raucous, burning with hurt. _

_My eyes burning viciously, I blinked, still staring at the floor. "I haven't forgotten what you've done on Tatooine," I whispered, my words shaking the air like an earthquake._

_An agonised, shocked silence pervaded the room. It was so quiet that the air seemed to ring with our pain. There was no sound of heartbeat, no breathing, no other hints that indicated that there was a world beyond the two of us and my betrayal. _

"_What happened on Tatooine is the past," Anakin said slowly, as though trying to convince not only me but also himself. _

"_But it could happen again," I retorted, still not meeting his eyes. I didn't want to know what I would read there. "Especially given that I'm not involved in politics any longer, and you have been expelled from the Order. Your dreams and your best friend have been robbed from you." I took a deep, calming breath, coming to the part of my speech that kept me awake for many nights. "A quiet life with me may not be enough for you."_

_I continued scrutinising the floor, afraid of his reaction. To my utter astonishment, he laughed. My eyes shot upwards before I realised that, and I found myself gazing into his warm, sparkling blue eyes, all traces of anger gone. _

"_Padmé, you're everything I need in my life," Anakin said softly, a ghost of a smile gracing his features. He took a step closer to me and stretched his arm out, touching my face. I tensed from his touch, but he didn't seem to notice. "I'm incomplete without you. I'll miss the Order…but as long as I have you, it doesn't matter. As for Obi-Wan,- " he chuckled, " – I won't get rid of him so easily. He is hurt, and disappointed, but he understands. I think he knew about us even before the whole turmoil started. He even stayed on Coruscant with me instead of going to Utapau and turning Grievous into a heap of a scrap metal." _

_He smiled again and stroked my cheek, the tenderness of his touch making my eyes burn even more. "I don't need anything, Padmé. A quiet life with you on Naboo would be like a dream coming true for me."_

_I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my face twist into a mask of pain. I could feel his concerned gaze, but I hadn't moved or opened my eyes, as a hot, scorching ache spread in waves over my skin. I hated myself with every fibre of my soul for being so shallow, yet there was nothing I could do against it. That was the way I felt, and I wished strongly to be able to change it._

"_But not for me." My voice was only a faint whisper, but it was enough._

_I opened my burning eyes. Anakin stood frozen, his hand a heavy weight on my cheek. _

"_What do you mean?" he asked slowly, blankly. But I could see a comprehension dawning on him at the bottom of his iris._

"_A life with you may not be enough for me."_

_His hand dropped to his side. A gust of an icy cold wind fluttered around us, slapping me with its invisible hands. _

"_Anakin, everything I dreamt about as a little girl is shattered," I continued, feeling the burning need to explain myself, to justify my feelings to myself. "Dreams of my life helping people, dreams of a true love that would be by my side everyday, supporting me through my daily routines. These dreams were shattered. _You_ came into my life and shattered them." _

_My vision became obscured, as though there were something inside of my eyes that prevented me from seeing clearly. These were tears. Tears of a traitor. I couldn't see the features of Anakin's face – the elegant shape of his eyes, his strong jaw, his slightly flawed nose – the features I knew by heart, yet never ceased to find some new, undiscovered things each time I looked at him. His dark outline and his gleaming eyes were everything I could see. I couldn't even make out the dazzling, brilliant blue of his orbs. _

"_I don't know if my love for you can survive…that."_

_The dark, blurry outline shifted slightly. "You…don't …know…if you love me enough?" His voice sounded much higher, much more childish than I was used to. _

_I lowered my head. "I don't."_

_There was a pause in which Anakin stared at me for what seemed an agonising eternity. The waves of pain overwhelming me intensified, and the ache was also physical. For a fleeting moment, the veil before my eyes cleared, and I could see his face – handsome as ever, but twisted by pain beyond imagination. _

_At that moment, I knew that the memory of that face would rip through me every time I'd think of him._

_But I didn't know that it would be the last time I saw him._

_Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away, his silhouette growing smaller with each step he took, until he disappeared behind the door. It screamed in a pained hiss behind him. The waves of pain that lapped at me rose higher and swallowed me whole, pulling me under them. _

_I drowned. _

That was the last time I saw him. The pale light of the moons strokes my withered hand with its silver, dead rays as I try to ease the fever of the Jedi. I don't know him, but I want to heal him with a burning desire so intense I haven't experienced for five years, ever since I died.

His last words brought me both into a stance of pure happiness, for there might be a slight chance that I would see Anakin again. But they also filled me with a feeling of cold dread – the past is about to catch up with me, I can feel it in the silver air. Am I ready for it? Will I ever be ready to become Padmé Amidala Skywalker again?

The Jedi draws a ragged, rattling breath, and I hurry to ease his pain. Some part of me craves for forgiveness, to make better for my weakness, and that's why I am literally obsessed with healing him as best as I can. Maybe, once the Jedi is healed, he can say a couple of kind words about me. Maybe, his words would drive Anakin into forgiving me. But maybe I've hurt the person I love more than anything in this world – to ever be forgiven.

You hurt only those you love. How much I wished it wasn't so.

"How is he?" Kaya asks me when I come down in the late afternoon, having fallen asleep after many hours of watching.

"He's sleeping," I answer, following her to the middle of the store where stacks of data pads need straightening out. Today, there are many customers in the store, and, of course, many of them don't possess the appropriate skills of being tidy.

"That's good," Kaya says absent-mindedly, casting a surreptitious glance at a tall, cloaked man standing with his back towards us. "You sleep today," she adds with a pointed glance into my direction. "I'll watch."

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in one of the holo pads. There are deep circles under my eyes, and the creases on my face are even more evident, my hair lying dead on my shoulders. I looked horrible, but, somehow, I couldn't care less.

A fluent grin passes over my face. "And Tilo?"

Kaya smirks. "He'll survive. Besides, you have something to tell me, _Padmé_." The tall, cloaked stranger tensed, putting down the holo he had been twirling.

I freeze and Kaya raises her eyebrows. "I heard how he called you. Who are you really, Raaja? And who is that Anakin?"

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I stare at Kaya, at my only friend, my mind blank. What could I tell her?

At this moment, the stranger turns around and I gasp, the thoughts about Kaya leaving my mind.

It is Anakin.

In the past five years, he hasn't changed much. His golden hair is shorter than I remember and he's tanner, but he is still youthful and irresistibly handsome – the same face that haunts me every night. But his eyes are no longer smiling, his face doesn't shine with love – his features are a stone mask as he stares at me, long and hard.

I am frozen. Everything else ceases to exist – Kaya, the store, the customers. I look into Anakin's cold, expressionless eyes, my mind blank. Somehow, everything seems surreal, and a part of me can't believe that he's really there, standing before me.

"Ani," I whisper, stretching my hand to him. It shakes like a lone, withered leaf under a powerful gust of icy wind.

He doesn't move, his brilliant blue eyes – my Ani's eyes, but at the same time a stranger's eyes – boring into me, searching for an answer I can't give.

"I think it's obvious that you don't suffer from amnesia," he says at last, his voice hard and unforgiving – the voice he had never used with _me_.

"Ani, I- "

Anakin interrupts me, his face twisted into a horribly forced smile. "There is nothing left to say."

He gives me a last cold look and turns around, leaving the shop before I can even open my mouth to retort. His elegant, powerful stride is a complete opposite to my crippled condition. Frozen, I watch unseeingly the place he was standing only seconds ago, the veil of bitter tears obscuring my sight. My world crumples around me in this suddenly cold, foreign store.

10


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, all!

The last update in this year. I hope it didn't suffer much from my Christmassy mood!

I wish you all happy holidays and a nice start into 2007!

Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter Five**

A gust of cold wind flutters into the store through the open door. It whirls around, singing softly to me, caressing my withered cheeks with its cool hands. There is something white floating in the air – snow flakes. Without realising what I'm doing, I move to the window. Snow falls from the skies, dancing and laughing with the wind, obscuring a tall, black figure that walks down the street. Even though the veil of the snow is too thick and he is walking too fast, I peer out of the window, my nose nearly pressed into the transparisteel, tracking his steps. His gauzed silhouette grows smaller and blurrier with each second until the snow swallows him whole.

A nauseating feeling of emptiness spreading up in me, I watch the snow flakes tossing and reeling in the icy wind, ever changing, ever smiling in their joy. Some of them throw themselves at the window, as though inviting me to join their dance. I notice only little of their magnificence, of their impeccable shape – each one of them different, yet so alike in their beauty – as my eyes peer desperately into the street, searching… searching… searching.

Maybe, he will return? Maybe, he will give me a chance to explain myself, to try to justify my unforgivable actions. Maybe, he had long forgiven me. Maybe, he thinks that there is nothing to forgive. But not even I believe it.

"Raaja?" I hear a voice call me.

A warm hand squeezes my shoulder. It is gentle and caring, but it is not the hand I long to be touched by. Nevertheless, I turn around, ignoring the tempting calls of the snow flakes to join them and to dance, to search, to scream for him to return.

"Who was it?" Kaya asks quietly.

I can't answer her. Instead, I gasp, clutching my belly. A fit of searing pain washes all over me and retreats as suddenly as it came, but leaving a reminder – a jagged, screeching hole in my chest. The hole I've forgotten about, the hole I got used to over the years.

"Are you all right?"

I nod, moving to the desk, my hoverchair buzzing compassionately. Kaya follows and lowers herself carefully on the chair next to me.

"That man is someone from your past, isn't he?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, taking a deep breath. My eyes flicker to the window – there is nothing but the snow – and back to Kaya's anxious face again.

"His name is Anakin Skywalker. He is my husband." I decide to use the present tense.

Kaya frowns, a vague sign of recognition flaring up in her eyes. She might have heard of him. After all, our forbidden marriage was all over HoloNet, everyone spoke about us, as if there were no war raging.

I hold my hand out, stopping potential questions. The hole screeches in pain, but I ignore it, my face resolved. Maybe, finally letting everything out will help me. Maybe, I should have done that long ago.

"Give me a moment," I say quietly, yet my voice is strong. "I'll tell you everything. I'll tell you everything about my past."

And so I will. The story of my life is the story of love and betrayal, of sweet lies and harsh truths. Kaya will find out who I really am, or who I think I am.

Who am I? What is hiding beneath my frail, aged body? Is the fire that used to burn within me still crackling, or is there nothing but the jagged hole left?

"My name is Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker. I was born on Naboo thirty-two standard years ago. At the age of fourteen I became a Queen of Naboo…"

My voice rustles softly in the store as the snow continues to fall outside.

There is nothing but darkness, sneering and laughing darkness. It comes closer and pulls back again, taunting me. There are faces there, but I can't make them out – faces from my past.

The darkness shifts nearly imperceptibly, opening its dark waters, revealing a pair of beautiful eyes. Pools of endless blue, they resurface from its depths, piercing me with their unwavering stare. I'm lost to their power, unable to look away. They penetrate and paralyse me, making everything else disappear as though it had never existed. There is a fire burning deep within – a mad, untamed fire.

Fire of rage? Fire of love? Fire of hatred?

I don't understand. I try to look deeper into them, but I'm already lost to the scorching blue, feeling small and insignificant. The darkness reels around us, ready to pull me under. I know that I'll never be able to resurface again, that I'll be forever incarcerated by these eyes…but I don't care. I want to be.

Just when I take a deep breath, shifting my body, ready to plunge into the darkness, there is a cracking noise.

There can be no noises in _this_ darkness.

I peer around. Nothing.

The cracking noise repeats – the moaning noise of a floor under the weight of another person.

Something is wrong.

With a jolt, I realise that I'm dreaming. I jerk awake, and the darkness retreats, replaced by a familiar silver moon light. The snow continues to fall from the skies, the moon and the white of the snow making the boring urban landscape appear surreal, like a place from another reality. But the beautiful eyes are gone too, and disappointment burns in my throat.

There is someone in the room. Not the wounded Jedi, not Kaya who has fallen asleep, a wet cloth in her hand. There is someone else.

"Padmé," a quiet, gentle voice calls from the doorstep before I can take a look around.

A dark silhouette leans against the door. First, my heart does a mad back flip in my chest, eager to leave the safety of my ribcage, but it slumps in defeat as soon as I take a closer look at the person standing in my doorway. The figure isn't tall enough to be Anakin, and his posture is different.

"Obi-Wan," I breathe out, disappointment a scorching fire in my chest. "What are you doing here?"

He walks in, his clear eyes never leaving my face. Even though his expression is guarded and calm, I can see that something is seething beneath the surface.

"I've come to take Utuug," he answers, motioning with his head to the Jedi, who's sleeping peacefully now. "He contacted us few days ago," Obi-Wan adds, intercepting my uncomprehending stare. "He told us about you."

I bite my lip and avert my eyes.

Obi-Wan approaches the bed, his greying hair scintillating marginally under the moon light. He's being careful not to wake Kaya, whose soft snores echo gently in the dark room. That's who he is – always careful, always thoughtful, always selfless – a perfect Jedi and a good friend. He didn't even change much in the past five years. Perhaps, only, there is sadness hidden deep in his grey eyes, and the creases on his forehead are more prominent now.

"Utuug," he calls gently, shaking his shoulder. "We should go."

To my utter surprise, the Jedi's eyes flutter open at once, as though he hadn't been sleeping at all. He frowns slightly, then he tries to smile as recognition dawns on his features.

"Obi-Wan. Took you long enough."

Obi-Wan cracks a slight smile. "Hello, my friend. Actually, we came soon enough. Anakin piloted the ship as though all Imperial troopers were at our heels."

The Jedi's eyes flicker to me and then focus back on Obi-Wan again. "Skywalker and his piloting skills," he chuckles. "Are you still alive?"

"More alive than you are."

Utuug groans.

"And now be still," Obi-Wan commands. "I'm not good at the healing techniques, but, somehow we need to get you out of here."

Obi-Wan carries the Jedi downstairs. I follow them as he walks through the store, which looks ominous and dead in the shadows, bathed in eerie, silver light.

It's cold outside. The wind wraps itself around my body, twisting and chilling me to the bones. The snow continues to drop upon us, finding its way into my collar, resting on my shoulders.

There is a vehicle standing in front of the store. Very gently, Obi-Wan lowers Utuug onto the backseat and stands aside. Swallowing a lump, I move closer, intent to say goodbye to the stranger whose arrival turned my life upside down. He lies still, pale-faced and gaunt, but his eyes are clear and penetrating, shining with emotion I can't comprehend. The snow whirls around him, resting in his beard, in his long hair, on his wounded chest.

I don't know where to begin. "Utuug," I finally stutter. He interrupts me.

"Thank you," he says quietly, and his voice is scorching with gratitude and sincerity so much I can nearly feel the warmth of it. "Thank you, Padmé. You're a wonderful and beautiful person. Never forget it."

The snow hurls into my face, the wind whips my hair, and I stay silent, locked into the intensity of his gaze. "Thanks," I whisper, my voice lost to the howling wind. "May the Force be with you."

He smiles faintly. "With you too."

A cold hand touches my shoulder so hesitantly I barely feel it. It belongs to Obi-Wan.

"Padmé," he says quietly, his face red from cold and his skin weather-beaten. "There is something I need to ask."

My breath instantaneously cold in my throat, much colder than the icy wind, I wait for his question. His face is inscrutable, yet I can see pain deep within his grey eyes.

"Why?" he gasps, the fog of his breath lost to the ever increasing snow storm. There is no need to clarify – I understand what he means.

As I scrutinise him, the snow whirling around us, more memories from the past life flood into my brain…

The excruciating, unstoppable pain I experienced after Anakin had left after our fateful conversation…

Numb, trance-like state the morning after…

The horrifying image of a cloud of smoke, rising agonisingly slowly above the Jedi Temple, burns my eyes as viciously as it did five years ago. The nauseating lump of worry is still there in my throat as on the day when I watched the Temple burn from the clones' attack, unaware whether Anakin was still alive or not.

It was then, at that exact moment, when Palpatine – horribly mutilated but full of gloating mirth – entered my apartment, his guards by his side. The fog of numbness in my brain prevented me from registering what he was saying, and human memories fade. I only saw his disfigured visage, stretched into a sinister sneer – the most horrifying face anyone had ever seen. It would have been better if he were furious, or if he laughed his evil laughter of madness. But that unnaturally white mask, those horrible, yellow eyes, that aggravating smile – it was as if the evil personally materialised before me in its wicked purity.

And then… pain came. Pain beyond any endurance, pain worse than anyone in this universe had ever suffered. I writhed in agony, all rational thoughts having left my mind, my eyes vaguely perceiving cold, violet streaks of lighting coming from Palpatine's long, spider-like fingers. I was hit by the Sith Lighting – the terrible weapon granted to those who had mastered the Dark Side of the Force. But I realised that only months later, when I had time to muse over the events of those dark days.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't scream. Still, there was one thought that whirled in my fading consciousness, like a beam of golden light midst the grey fog. Anakin… Anakin… Anakin. I needed him, I wanted for him to come and rescue me.

I hoped he would come, that he would feel the pain I was in.

In that moment, I realised how wrong I had been, how much I needed him, how much I _loved_ him.

But it was too late.

Anakin didn't come to save me. Because I'd hurt him too much. Because he didn't love me any longer.

Palpatine's laughter, seething with evil delight, was the last thing I heard before the darkness overtook me only to release one year later.

All this swirls through my head as I gaze at Obi-Wan, my mouth slightly open. He waits patiently, tiny ice crystals scintillating in his beard.

"I'd hurt him, Obi-Wan," I whisper at last. The snow melts into my collar, frigid water running down my body. "He left… and didn't come back when I needed him." My voice breaks and I shudder, but it has nothing to do with the melted snow under my clothes. I know that I'm being infantile, but I can't help it. "He didn't save me from Palpatine. He let that… snake cripple me."

Obi-Wan's gaze is harsh yet there is a flicker of compassion to his grey eyes. The moons' silver light makes him look nearly surreal, like a creature from the many holos I'd read in my long years of solitude. I bite my lip, – the skin is dry – my eyes sweeping unconsciously over my hoverchair, its buzzing indistinguishable in the howling storm. Palpatine had chosen a perfect moment to strike at me, fully aware that Anakin and the other Jedi were attacked in the Temple, fighting for their dear life. There was no way that Anakin could sense that I was in danger, let alone come and rescue me.

"He did come."

Obi-Wan's quiet voice pierces through the moans of the wind like a sharp blade. Uncomprehending, I look up, my brow furrowed in confusion.

A slight smile graces Obi-Wan's features, bringing even more sadness to them. "Anakin came to your rescue when Palpatine attacked you," he answers my unspoken question. "That's why you're still alive – more lighting would have killed you."

"But- "

The wind hurls more snow upon us, the dancing and reeling snow flakes covering the dark indigo sky. The sight is magnificent – the eerie quietness, the silver light, the falling snow – but both Obi-Wan and I are oblivious to it, lost in the memories of the past. There are so many questions that need to be answered, many mysteries to be revealed, and many misunderstandings to be cleared.

Obi-Wan sighs. "These had been dark times, Padmé," he begins cautiously. "On the evening of the day when Anakin had been expelled from the Order, he spent the night in my quarters. The next morning he went to see Chancellor Palpatine. I guess he needed his _guidance_ more than ever." He pauses briefly, not looking at me. "Palpatine revealed himself."

Obi-Wan's face is dark and his voice is dead as he continues with his tale, carefully avoiding looking at me. "Four Jedi Masters went to arrest Sidious. None of them returned. Anakin and I waited for them in the Council Chambers. " Almost against his will, Obi-Wan glances at me briefly, his gaze clear and piercing. "He was confused and torn, Padmé. If it weren't for me, he would probably have gone there, and- " He leaves the rest of the sentence hanging, but I understand.

"And then, the Force shifted suddenly – it choked us, and the darkness in it was nearly palpable. It was then when the battalion of the clone troopers attacked the Temple, executing Order 66. It was quick, unexpected and lethal. There was blood everywhere, and the air was filled with smoke and the Force's screams of pain. Anakin's first impulse was to save the younglings – he always had a certain affection for them. We hid them in the Council Chambers, one of the most secure locations in the Temple."

Obi-Wan pauses, gazing unseeingly at the snow, which continues to fall, whirling and tossing in the wind. His face is grim when he finally looks down at me again. The cold wraps its frigid arms around me, as though trying to put me into cage – either to punish or to protect, I don't know.

"And then… something seemed to pass over Anakin," he says quietly. "He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, pressing his temples as though he wanted to crush his skull. He stayed like this, ignoring the blaster beams that cut the air everywhere. Before I could understand what had happened, he shot me that you were in danger and rushed to help you."

My breath is choking me as I fight to form the words. "But I didn't see him." There is a hint of a plea in my voice – a plea that my anger with Anakin is justified, that I am not the only one to blame.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, his face twisted into a grimace of pain so intense that I can feel its waves engulf me. "You were already unconscious when Anakin burst in. There was a fight." The Jedi Master looks down, the snow beneath his feet having lost its stunningly white colour – it is mingled with dirt. When he speaks again, his voice is bitter and dead. "Anakin fell."

I blink – a completely superfluous gesture. "He- ?"

"Sidious was too strong for the Chosen One. Anakin fell out of your window and survived only by a miracle. He was injured… seriously injured. The healers had to put him into a healing trance which lasted much, much longer than it normally does. When he woke up many days later, he found out that you were dead."

I purse my lips, watching the snow drop upon the town. There are no colours around me – only the ghostly, pure white, shimmering under the moonlight. "He probably hates me now."

My voice trembles with my pain and I carefully avoid looking at Obi-Wan. The snow-covered street is much safer to look at. The white beguiles, hiding all the filth and dirt underneath, making everything seem surreal, idyllic. The town is unnaturally quiet – no traffic noises, no rustling of the forest, no singing of the birds – and dead. Like me.

Obi-Wan's voice is very gentle as he speaks to me, his soft baritone covering the moans of the wind. "No," he says, and I can feel a slight smile to his voice. "He could never hate you. He loves you too much to ever hate you, Padmé."

I squeeze my eyes shut as they ache from the icy wind. Or, there might be a different reason for the ache in my eyes – reason I don't want to think about. "But he left today. He was so cold, so distant… "

The next moment, there is a heavy weight on my shoulder, but it is not a bother – on the contrary, it feels soothing. It is Obi-Wan's hand.

"Give him time, Padmé," he says fatherly. "It is as hard for him as it is for you. He will come around. "

I open my eyes, and first all I see is a smear of white and dark indigo. But then my vision gets clearer and I can make out the snow, and the skies – the same skies that Anakin loves walking in, the same snow that swallowed him this morning.

"I'm sorry," I murmur so softly that Obi-Wan might miss it. "I'm so sorry."

But he hears me. "Don't be sorry," he contradicts me, his voice a gust of warm breeze in the icy storm. "You were scared and confused. We all were. Everything that happened is just some sick, horrible chain of misunderstandings."

"Obi-Wan, tell Anakin that- " I begin, but he interrupts me.

"I'm not telling him anything," he says sharply, kneeling before me and taking both my hands in his. "You can explain everything yourself."

I frown. "But what if he doesn't come back?"

A ghost of smile touches his features that are red with cold. "He will. And if he doesn't, I'm sure that you will search the whole galaxy until you've found him. I know you, Padmé. You never stop until you've reached your goal. You haven't changed no matter what you think. "

I open my mouth to protest, but he holds his hand, stopping me. "The looks fool," he exclaims, gesturing with his hand at my hoverchair, at my aged face. "That's the first lesson we learn as Jedi. You're still the same Padmé that Anakin Skywalker fell in love with, and he knows that. You should learn that as well."

He stands up, not tearing his gaze from mine. "We have to go, Padmé," he says kindly, jerking his head to the speeder. "It's dangerous for us to linger here."

I understand that he doesn't mean only himself and Utuug by 'we'. I can only nod vaguely, too weak to speak. Obi-Wan gives me one last smile and turns away from me, climbing into the vehicle. Anakin is nowhere around… My guess is that he's on the ship, checking the engines, eager to pilot it…

"Obi-Wan, you know that I love you," I blurt out suddenly. Dazzled, he whirls around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Thank you," I add sincerely, feeling myself blush

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Never let Anakin hear that," he says lightly. "And you're most welcome."

I smile and raise my hand in a gesture of farewell.

Obi-Wan's sharp profile is a dark shape in the ghostly light as he starts the engines. The speeder takes off and, with an eerie roar, disappears in the whirling snow. The storm continues raging, covering all traces that Obi-Wan and… Anakin have been here. It could as well have been just another dream, another plea of my subconscious.

The snow flakes hit my face, inviting me to join in their game of joy – reeling and tossing and changing white shapes against the dark sky. The weight in my stomach seems to lessen fractionally and my hole seems to get smaller as I watch them, listening to the beautiful, drawn-out howling of the wind.

14


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! I hope all of you got off with a good start into the New Year—a pig's year according to the Chinese horoscope. I hope my Christmassy mood and loads of snow at my home didn't affect this story too much…**

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I'm always glad to hear from you.**

**I hope you enjoy. : ) **

**Chapter Six**

It didn't stop snowing for the next few days. The snow-drifts rose higher with each single flake, turning the boring town into a landscape from a fairy tale. The cold painted its magnificent drawings on our windows, giving the store an edge of mystery. The beautiful nature taunts me, making me feel my pain with a sharpened clarity.

A few days have passed since the Jedi left the planet, but it felt like years. The time drags slowly, in uneven patches and lulls, sometimes like a sharp, excruciating pain of a broken bone, sometimes like a dull ache of a healing bruise. Each beep of a chrono is a prickle of a thorny rose, each heartbeat is a hammer which drums at the hole in my chest, making it larger and emptier. Time is a mysterious creation, passing slowly yet surprisingly quickly, hurrying to run its own, unknown errand, taking all our lives with it.

Nearly a week has passed since I've last seen Anakin. There were times when his brief visit seemed like just another dream, one of many I'd had during five years. It is not a good dream, the one you do not want to have over and over again– he didn't hug or kiss me, didn't say that he forgave me, or even linger enough even to say a proper good-bye. So, I wish strongly that his visit was just a dream, and that I would wake up to find that he never came. That gives me hope for a blissful reunion – the one I know we can never have.

But when the gauzed curtain of dreams lifts off me with the first rays of sun, I wake up covered in sweat, and reality catches up with me: Anakin really came, fulfilling my worst nightmares. Then the new day would begin – a day full of false smiles and pretending being someone I'm not – and at the end of it I lie down and dream, wishing, begging once more that the events of past days were nothing more than a bad dream.

Unfortunately, I can't fool myself no matter how hard I try.

"What are the scores today?" Kaya asks, interrupting my reverie. Tilo stands behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist as he leans down, kissing her neck softly. She shushes at him in mock annoyance.

"Oh, we are good," I reply in the most natural voice I can muster, swaying some credits in mid-air. "The business is running better as of lately."

It is dark outside, and we have been long closed. It is an incredibly beautiful and quiet night. There are no clouds in the skies and the stars twinkle merrily upon us, the snow scintillating magnificently in their light. The stars that my Ani wished to visit once.

Tilo chuckles. "You're good at finances, Padmé." He and Kaya have known my past ever since Anakin's visit. "Both of you are," he adds, gently touching Kaya's nose.

She scoffs, disentangling herself from his embrace. "Behave," she hisses furiously, playfully slapping his shoulder. Tilo is tall – probably almost as tall as Anakin – but his skin is even darker, his hair nearly as dark as mine. He's very handsome in his own way. But not even close to _his_ breathtaking beauty, at least to my eyes. I stop my train of thoughts before my facial expression can betray me.

"Men are annoying," I laugh, winking conspicuously at Kaya. "You're going to spend the rest of your life with him, my dear."

Tilo pouts, but Kaya ignores him, giggling quietly into her fist. She's really adorable – I understand why Tilo is so madly in love with her. I only hope that their love lasts… for eternity.

"Speaking of men," Kaya says when she calms down a bit. "Have you heard anything of Anakin lately?"

I can feel my grin vanish as I shake my head back and forth. Kaya smiles compassionately and hugs me, rubbing my back gently.

"I wish I could help you," she murmurs into my shoulder.

"You help a lot," I say truthfully, my voice warm with gratitude. "There is no need to be dramatic."

She lets go of me immediately, but her soft hand rests on my shoulder. "I admire your strength, Padmé," she says earnestly.

I snort.

"He hurt you so much. How can you still love him?" Tilo asks dazedly, toying with the Imperial credits.

I fly over and snap the credits out of his hand, putting them into the cash register. "Love is irrational, but I hurt him first."

He frowns, a slight crease forming on his flawless forehead. "Still, if I lay my hand on that bastard, I'll-"

"You'll what?" a quiet voice asks from the doorway. It is a familiar voice.

My head snaps automatically to the door. It is open, and a tall, lean figure stands on the threshold, illuminated by the sliver light so that it seems to glow marginally. The stranger enters the store, flicking his fingers casually, and the door slides shut behind him. He raises his hands and, in a fluid motion, pulls the hood down, revealing his golden hair and deep, cerulean eyes.

Tilo stutters, taken aback by a menacing glint in Anakin's eyes – the glint that scared countless Separatists away during the Clone Wars, the glint I adore so much. "I'll-"

"I don't recommend fighting _me,_" Anakin interrupts him coolly. His eyes narrow fractionally, a lone lock of hair falling on his forehead. He looks dangerous, but even more handsome than I remember him to be – it seems that my memory hasn't done him justice.

Tilo purses his lips, admitting defeat, but Kaya jumps up furiously.

"Listen to me," she begins hotly, putting her hair behind her ears. "If you came here to hurt Padmé, you'll have to go over my injured body to get her! You managed to scare my strong and brave fiancée, but you're not getting rid of me so easily, Anakin Skywalker or whatever your name is!"

Bemused, Anakin opens his mouth to retort. Kaya doesn't give him a chance.

"I think you've hurt her enough!" she shouts. "Why do you have to return and hurt her even more instead of having a long, civilized conversation?!"

She pauses to catch her breath, her green eyes throwing daggers at Anakin. He cringes nearly imperceptibly, his head lowering very slightly.

"That's what I came for now," he says calmly, feigning a smile at Kaya. Her mouth forms a tiny 'oh' and she sits down, blushing furiously. "Thank you for a reminder, though," he adds, smiling my favourite crooked smile.

Kaya grins back, but she's still too embarrassed to smile whole-heartedly. Casting a fluent glance at Tilo, Anakin walks to me, his stride light and powerful.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me, Padmé?" he asks quietly. His voice is friendly on the surface, but it is slightly unnatural, as if he had been rehearsing that phrase. His dazzling eyes are no longer cold, like on the day he came into my life again, yet they don't sparkle with warmth either. His impeccable face is a mask of detached politeness.

"Sure," I breathe out in an unnaturally quiet, shy voice. He frowns slightly at my words, then takes my hand into his mechanical one, the leather of his glove a familiar and welcome touch on my skin. Electrical current seems to run over each inch of my skin as before whenever he would touch me, but something is missing. I don't understand what it is, and the hole in my chest grows larger, screeching softly.

Anakin glances down at me as though he were able to hear the screeching sound, but he doesn't smile – his face is guarded.

"I'll return her safe and sound," he shoots over his shoulder to Kaya and Tilo as the door slides open before us, the snow-covered landscape stretching out as far as my eyes can see.

The three moons are flawless silver circles on the dark indigo sky—it is full moon, a time of revelation when all disguises fall. A person you believed to be a friend might turn out to be your enemy, and a life long lost may be found—moons see everything as they circle in the space, watching. Tonight is theirs, tonight they have a say. What will they reveal to me? What future awaits us?

We walk in silence, a strained and uncomfortable silence from my side. The nature keeps still so as not to disturb us, but I don't welcome its quietness. There is no wind, no chirping of a lonely bird, not even the sound of Anakin's footsteps—nothing that might distract me from my gloomy thoughts.

We leave the town's borders and enter the forest. The trees are mysterious, white shapes that hover above us, menacing yet breathtaking in their beauty. Everything is motionless and unnaturally still, covered by a sparkling, silver shroud. The trees are tall, but I can see the skies and the stars twinkling and shining joyfully like fireflies, as though trying to encourage me.

I'm in the forest at night with Anakin, only him and I—in any other situation, it would have been a dream coming true. We are in the lap of the nature, reunited after long years apart. I can't help but be happy simply by seeing him again, being in his presence. These minutes in the forest might be the last ones we will ever share together, and I savour each millisecond of them, trying to burn the feeling of his touch into my memory.

What is Anakin thinking? I glance at him surreptitiously, but his face reveals nothing. Before… things happened, I had been able to read him easily—his mood, his thoughts, his worries. Now, he is a complete stranger. I don't know whether he calculates how to break up with me, or whether he feels the same like I do now—unsure of the future, desperately savouring the minutes of what might be our last reunion. Does he really think that I can let go of him easily? Life is not worth living without him. But if he moved on and found someone he loves, someone who can take care both of him and my children better than I can do, I'll… probably let him live his life. I won't be a bother. I had never been.

The trees part before us, revealing a small, frozen lake. It scintillates in the moon light like thousands of icy crystals—a magnificent sight I had never seen before.

"It is beautiful," I stutter, moving closer to the lake. Anakin follows me.

"Haven't you been here before?" Anakin asks curiously, arching his eyebrow.

"No, I usually try not to leave the town's limits."

"Oh." He shrugs his shoulders lightly and drops the subject.

I stare at the lake, marvelling at its brilliance, the sheer beauty before me making me forget about the explanation I should give. The cold prickles slightly at my skin, but it is not the kind of cold that chills you to the bones or freezes your heart. It is the kind of cold that indicates that you're still alive, the cold that you welcome and enjoy, the cold that evaporates as soon as you enter a warm place.

"Padmé," Anakin calls quietly.

I turn around, meeting his gaze stoically. His eyes are a scorching, brilliant blue I love and remember, yet there is an unknown edge to them I can't decipher. These are not the eyes of a young Anakin Skywalker who had been reunited with his wife after an agonisingly long time apart—not anymore. These eyes belong to a man with decades of life experience and suffering—not the eyes of a man who is still in his twenties.

"I'm sorry," I whisper before he can pronounce the words of accusation, or ask me why I hid myself.

He frowns and averts his eyes, letting go of my hand as he walks towards the lake. His dark silhouette is a sharp contrast to the incandescent white surroundings.

"You should have told me," he says in an oddly slurred voice. "You were alive all these years, and you hid yourself. Do you have any idea-" he breaks off abruptly, whirling around and piercing me with his stare, biting his lips to stop them from trembling.

I avert my eyes for I have nothing to retort. The memory of my betrayal burns in my chest, but, surprisingly, I feel cold, much colder than only minutes ago. This feeling of cold is the one that can't be erased by a warm fire. There is only one thing that can make the cold go away—the thing I fear I may never have again.

"I'm sorry," I repeat quietly, scrutinising my knees. "I'm so sorry."

Anakin closes his eyelids for a moment, and then opens them again, exhaling audibly. "Padmé, I just want to understand _why_." His voice is unnaturally calm and guarded.

How can I explain to him why if I don't understand it completely myself? It was a spontaneous decision. I mused over it during five years, trying to sort my feeling on the fateful day when I woke up from a year-long coma. Was I scared? Ashamed? Disappointed? Everything was mixed up so chaotically, like a dough for pie—many ingredients, each one of them important, impossible to remove so as not to change the flavour, the result.

Anakin waits patiently—a different Anakin than I remember. My Anakin had never been patient. I gaze into his orbs, trying to decipher his thoughts for the thousandth time. Once more, I fail. He had learnt to disguise his feelings well. I see my reflection in his cerulean eyes, the image I know only too well. Was Obi-Wan right about me? Am I still the same Padmé, the woman that Anakin can love? I seek the answer for that question as my mind opens another memory—a memory of the day when I decided to become an outcast.

The sun was a blinding, white smear in the sky, shining directly on my face. I blinked and looked aside, but the persisting sun's rays found my eyes again, tickling them. My body throbbed dully with weariness, demanding some sleep. Sighing in frustration, I closed my eyes and tried to relax, letting the exhaustion spread over my skin. A failed attempt—the sun shone too brightly, penetrating through the skin. My mother had forgotten to close the curtains… Grunting, I constricted my muscles to get up and close the curtains myself.

Nothing happened. I didn't even feel the muscles on my legs. That was strange. I tried again.

I sat up, the annoying light stinging my eyes even more. Why couldn't I move my legs?

Even though panic started building in my chest, I took a deep, calming breath and tried again. Moving my legs was an act that didn't require thinking or concentration—I used to do that instinctively ever since I had taken my first steps as a small child. But now I concentrated harder than during the most important Senate session, constricting every single muscle on my thighs, on the small of my back, on my abdomen.

Still nothing happened.

Then I remembered a foreign, phantom voice of a healer who had been surveying me after I had woken up from the coma two days before. I hadn't perceived the words back then—they had been just an incorporeal whisper in the grey fog of numbness. Only now, with a sudden rush of clarity, did the full, deathly meaning catch up with me.

Paralysed. Unable to walk ever again. Bound to a hoverchair for the rest of my life.

Without realising what I was doing, I slumped back on the pillow. It welcomed me with its soft embrace. Panic I had managed to control before, burst through all my mental barriers, suffocating me. My eyes wide open, my breath hard and hostile in my chest, I lay motionlessly, staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

Paralysed—a simple word. Nine letters, five of them consonants. It was a word I had learned when I was three. It had happened by accident when I overheard my parents talking about an acquaintance of theirs, a person I had never met. I didn't even remember her name. "It means unable to move, sweetheart," my father had answered my question. I had been astounded—how was it possible that a person is unable to move? When the first shock had passed, I had mused over it and decided that it was horrible. I had made my mind that I would destroy the paralysis when I would grow up and become big and powerful—no one would suffer from it, and everyone would be happy. Two years later I had learned how to spell 'paralysed'. On the paper, it had seemed a harmless enough word, much easier to spell than 'legislation' or 'Coruscant'.

Back during those joyful, happy days I had had no idea how much evil hid behind those nine letters, how many consequences it had. Inability to walk, run, dance—that I could handle with time. But would Anakin welcome me back disabled and disfigured after Palpatine's attack, after cruel and harsh words I had unleashed on him? Did he still love me?

I had been in coma for a year, a long year during which his life hadn't stopped. He had Luke and Leia, he had Obi-Wan, he had been a warrior again—temporarily restored to the ranks of Jedi in a battle against the Empire. He hadn't come to rescue me from Palpatine when I had called for him… If only he had come and saved me, my spinal nerve would have been undamaged and I would have been a normal woman, not a poor imitation of it. A bitter feeling of resentment flared up in me.

On the other hand, was Anakin as shallow as I imagined him to be? Was I unjust to him? He had fallen in love with me as a child and continued to love me for ten years, even if he hadn't known whether we would meet again. He had proven me countless time that he loved me during our years of marriage—I had seen it in his eyes, in the way he would touch me, in the tone of his voice.

Did Anakin love me or my beauty most? On Tatooine, he had thought I were an angel—an unnaturally beautiful being. That beauty is gone now…

I was dead officially. As far as I understood, my parents had found my breathless body shortly after Palpatine's attack and moved me to Naboo. As I had been unconscious, the babies were born by a caesarean—I was robbed of the chance to give them birth myself, to hear their first breath. Then my parents had given the twins to their father and faked my burial in fear that Palpatine would seek me out to finish the task, and their plan seemed to work so far. There had been no assassination attacks, and no one knew that I was still alive. Not even Anakin knew.

Did he deserve to know the truth about me or was it better to leave him in the dark? He may have moved on after a year. Was it wise to break his newly restored life or should I leave him in peace? I had broken up with him, after all. What would he think of me if I crawled back to him, begging for forgiveness after so much time? A reunion which included a hug and many kisses was highly unlikely. Most probably, he would pity me and let me stay with him and his children while he would live his new life—he was too noble to give a cold shoulder I deserved.

Or would he forget all the things I had said and welcome me back with open arms?

I remained lying on my bed, arguing with myself, reliving each minute I had spent with Anakin, searching for an answer when I heard voices. Those were familiar voices: a male and female one. My mother, and… Bail Organa.

What was Bail doing here, on Naboo? I strained my ears, listening to their conversation. Thankfully, only a thin wall separated me from them. After several seconds of listening, I realised with a jolt that they were speaking about Anakin.

"How is he?" my mother asked cautiously.

Bail took his time with answering. "He is better now," he said slowly. "Time heals all wounds."

My heart dropped somewhere into the region of my lower abdomen. The sudden emptiness in my chest was choking, robbing my ability to breathe. Was I right in my assumptions?

My mother kept silent, and Bail went on.

"But at the beginning, it was bad… really bad. It seemed that he died with her. He wouldn't eat, sleep or talk to anyone. He couldn't even look at his children-" Bail broke off abruptly, as though he couldn't speak anymore. "Anakin and I have never been close, but I had never felt more compassion for anyone before…"

"I know… He loved her so much," my mother whispered hoarsely. "I remember how he came to our home, when he used to be Padmé's protector. You could see his true feelings for her even then… It must have been horrible for him."

"Worse than horrible," Bail retorted glumly. "Luke and Leia wouldn't stop screaming. I guess they could feel his pain through the Force, and they needed their father. But he couldn't look at them… Later I realised that they reminded him too much of… her, and his pain was too fresh."

Another silence pervaded the neighbouring room. I kept still too, my breath rattling, my thoughts flowing frantically.

"I'm so sorry," my mother said sincerely, breaking the silence.

I imagined Bail to shake his head. "Don't be."

"What happened later?"

"One night, Leia screamed particularly loudly, in a piercing, high-pitched scream as if someone were cutting her. Even Obi-Wan's calming techniques didn't help. I remember cradling her—she was a tiny thing, red from relentless screaming. I was afraid she would choke… Then someone asked me to hand her over. It was a voice I didn't recognise first." Bail paused. "I turned around and… saw Anakin. He looked horrible—thin, pale, deep purple circles under his eyes. I hesitated for a moment, but he kept insisting, and I gave him Leia, though I was afraid he would drop her. He took her… and something seemed to pass over his face. As soon as his arms touched Leia, she stopped screaming at once. They just gazed at each other. Obi-Wan and I left them."

"That's… wonderful," my mother said quietly.

"It is." There was a slight smile in Bail's voice. "I came back a few hours later and found Anakin sleeping with the twins in his arms. It was his first decent sleep after several months of…" His voice trailed away.

"He started eating, sleeping and talking since that day. He would spend much time with his children, and we left them alone—they needed to bond. Several weeks later he went on his first mission. That seemed to boost his spirits. He even smiled when he climbed out of the cockpit… "

"I'm glad that he was able to move on so quickly and… easily," my mother muttered with an odd edge to her voice.

For the first time, Bail's voice had some sharp notes. "It wasn't easy. Months were passing, and he was still mourning. He still does, and he always will. Don't make assumptions, Jobal."

There was a short silence.

"I'm sorry," my mother said uncomfortably.

Bail's voice was still dry as he spoke again. It was astonishing how much closer he and Anakin had become during the year I was away. "You know that the anniversary of her… death was a couple of weeks ago. We celebrated it too. The strangest thing is that that date seemed to… release Anakin. I think that he accepted that she's gone now and that she will never come back. He had come to terms with her death."

A lump formed in my throat as I strained to listen, afraid to miss a single word. Why this lump? I should have felt happy that Anakin was slowly returning to the world of living again, yet a part of me was disappointed. Immediately, shame started burning my chest. What did I expect? That he would spend the rest of his life in seclusion, like an insane hermit, not stopping to mourning me? Did I really want him to live like that? To my utter horror, a part of me, a selfish and stupid part, wanted him to. The fact that he was recovering indicated that he was able to live without me, a fact which _that_ part of me couldn't accept. It meant that he didn't love me as much as he claimed to—he would commit suicide if his love was that strong.

I pushed my fist into my mouth and bit into it as painfully as I could. There was a stinging sensation in the back of my eyes as I clenched my teeth into my flesh, fighting a scream which started building in my throat. What was I thinking? It was selfish, it was stupid, it was evil of me! Did I really want Anakin to commit suicide after I 'died', to leave our children alone, to leave the galaxy in the claws of the Empire, to leave Obi-Wan?

"Time heals all wounds, even the deepest," Bail said wistfully. "The pain will never disappear, but he started to learn living with it. I think soon he'll be ready to move on."

_Ready to move on_. The words hit me with the power of tsunami, leaving me breathless and powerless.

_Ready to move on… _

Images and thoughts started swirling in my head, inflicting pain beyond anything I had ever felt before. It burned and cut my skin, suffocating and swallowing me, making all feelings and rational thoughts go away. I ceased being a person—I was just a heap of flesh and blood. My room was a smear of blinding white and blurry blue, the colour of my walls. The pain spread all over, clawing its way through the veins, flowing like lava through my blood, reaching the heart… And then it stopped beating, consumed by the fire. The flames licked at it, making me scream, but no sound escaped from my lips—and then everything stopped. The pain lifted off, the fire was extinguished. But my heart stopped beating, and the fire burned an uneven, jagged hole in my chest, leaving only black ashes.

I was dead.

It didn't matter that I was still breathing and thinking—my heart was burned, and I was empty. My body was alive, but the real me—Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker—died, like she pretended to.

No one would ever find out that I was still alive.

No one would bother searching.

That was good.

That suited me—the dead me.

"Partly, it's because of you," I start slowly. "I was in coma for a year—a result of Palpatine's attack. Luke and Leia were born by caesarean, and the others gave them to you. A year later, I woke up, disabled and disfigured, with no one by my side. You believed into my death as well… You didn't search." The last words escape from my lips before I can stop them.

Anakin barks a mirthless laugh. "Oh, I did search. I didn't stop searching for you day and night… but there was no trace of you in the Force—you were gone. Now I understand why I couldn't find you."

"But why did you stop?" There is a note of accusation to my voice.

"As months flew by, the possibility of your survival seemed less and less likely. When a whole year had passed, I stopped clinging to your memory, and just… let you go."

"You became a Jedi," I conclude bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Anakin says quietly.

"And that's the exact reason I chose to leave you ignorant," I continue, but my speech isn't even and guarded—words run into each other, and my voice breaks. "You simply let me go, you moved on! I heard Bail and my Mum speaking when I woke up from the coma—he said that your wounds had healed in only _a year_. You didn't need me any longer, and I didn't want to be a bother in your new life."

My tirade is over and I pant heavily, my face burning. Anakin stares at me as though I were a phantom, his face twisted oddly almost beyond recognition.

"You didn't tell me because you thought I was over you?" he hisses. For the first time, he sounds angry—very angry.

"Well-"

He breaks me off, a strange fire scorching deep in his iris. "Do you love me?"

I blink rapidly, abashed by the directness of his question. "What?"

He sighs impatiently. "It is a simple question—Padmé, do you still love me or not?"

I bite my lip. Which answer will hurt him more—a sweet lie or harsh truth? Should I sacrifice my un-life for his happiness with another woman by telling no, or should I make him choose between his heart and his honour by telling him yes? Scrutinising his now calm face, I decide on the truth.

"Yes, I still do," I whisper nearly inaudible, looking deeply into his eyes.

His face is inscrutable, but his eyes are a deep, endless pool of blue—intense and suffocating. I want to look away, but I can't. I want to fly away, but I'm unable to move.

He smiles very slightly, taking a step closer to me. My heart beats slower than usual, but each heartbeat is a powerful hammering in the ribcage, the sound echoing loudly in the still forest.

Anakin lays his hand on mine—it trembles slightly. "You love me?" he asks breathlessly.

I can only give a tiny nod.

Something passes over his eyes and he inhales sharply. "Padmé, you're a fool!"

I blink again. "What?"

Anakin laughs oddly. His eyes are glazing. "Padmé, you're a fool!" he yells. "You didn't come to me because you thought I was over you, because I wouldn't want you? This is _preposterous_! Do you have any idea what I felt when I heard about your death, when I couldn't sense you through the Force?! I died with you."

"But your life-"

He cuts through me again. "This is not a life, it's an imitation of it. I eat and sleep, talk and fight, I look after my children and sometimes even joke. But none of it is real—I'm just a machine which continues existing because it's needed, because it has dept. I can pretend being alive and strong, but I'm not. I can't be without you."

My mouth is suddenly very dry. "So, does this mean that you still love me as well?"

Instead of answering, Anakin picks me out of hoverchair and spins me around. The trees, the lake and the clear sky are a glistering silver, and cool, fresh air flutters into my face, whipping out some of my pain. He laughs my favourite musical, contagious laughter as he spins me around effortlessly, his arms seeming to become even stronger than they used to be.

"Padmé, you're a fool," he says gently, putting me back to my chair. "I'm half alive without you."

"Does it mean yes?" I breathe out.

He smiles softly. "Of course it does."

I feel a broad, genuine smile spread over my face, my eyes shining brightly. Very tenderly, Anakin strokes my head, his warm touch making me feel safe and _alive_.

Something seems to pass between us—an invisible bond which had always been there, but years of absence wiped that memory away—the sensation seems new and indescribably beautiful. Anakin leans down and kisses my forehead, his thumbs brushing away the tears I wasn't aware of.

The night is silent and the silver rays of the three moons cast an unnaturally soft light on us as we walk hand in hand along the lake midst the glimmering snow.

18


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello! **

**My most sincere apologies for abandoning this story! I know that nothing I can say will justify such a long wait, but I did have some problems in my life--university, some family problems, personal life going to hell and then gradually rising back again, more university... With all that, I had time to work only on one of my stories. **

**Thank you so much for your patience with me! I hope that even after such a long break, you'll be able to enjoy the rest of this story. **

**Many thanks to amazing AnakinsFavorite for the beta! **

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**_**Brief summary of what happened before:** _

Due to the chain of events triggered by the Galaxy finding out about their secret marriage, Padmé faked her death and lived alone on Deralia, the Outer Rim planet. No one knew that she was alive—not Anakin, not her children, not anyone—except for her parents.

The Empire reigns over the Galaxy. Anakin, Obi-Wan and other survived Jedi are with the Rebellion.

One day, a Jedi accidentally meets Padmé and lets Anakin know that his wife is still alive.

Anakin arrives at Deralia. He and Padmé have a long talk, finding out the whole truth about the past. Eventually, they reconcile.

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**Chapter Seven**

The gentle sun's rays wake me up. I stretch and open my eyes, the bright morning outside the window boosting my spirits considerably. It seems like a beginning of a good day. Still dizzy from sleep, I watch the light slant joyfully into my small room, my mind blank—but this is not a cold, bleak emptiness. On the contrary, I feel strangely content and whole, as though… But I can't get myself to finish the sentence in my mind. I'm happy simply because I've had a good dream, that's all—and this is more than enough for now.

To my surprise, I feel something heavy on my waist. Puzzled, I turn around. Two blue orbs smile at me.

I blink rapidly, trying to remember what I had been dreaming about. It had been something good, perhaps the best dream I'd had in years. Now as I concentrate on it, random pieces slowly start swirling on the inside of my head—through the fog, I can see the lake, feel fresh air brush against my skin, and, most importantly, I remember _him_. His eyes, his voice, his touch…

It seems that my subconscious decided to prolong the dream. Why not? I close my eyes once more and count to ten, basking in the remnants of the illusion, and then open them again. The figment of my imagination is still here, watching me as alarm slowly steals over his features. This is too much—I'm certainly going insane.

Then, suddenly, the events of the past days flood over me—a long conversation with Anakin and a wonderful walk along the lake—the reunion I had dreamt about for so long. While embarrassing warmth spreads slowly on my cheeks, I realise that I'm awake… and that this is no hallucination.

"Anakin," I whisper.

Relief washes over his face. "Good morning," he whispers back.

He's really here, lying beside me, his body only inches away from mine. A part of me still refuses to believe. What if he disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving only empty space behind?

"Morning," I echo, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Have you been awake for a long time?"

"For quite a while." He grins at me and toys with my hair, twisting it around his gloved finger—a gesture that is both familiar yet foreign to me. It is almost like another morning from my previous life… Almost, but not quite. For one, his eyes are different, terrible sadness and anguish lurking at their very depths, mirroring my own fears—a fear that he isn't real.

I am unable to resist a frown. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were sleeping too peacefully. Besides, it's been quite a long time since I've watched you sleep."

Horrified, I sit up rapidly, my hair certainly looking like haystack. "And the store?"

Anakin rolls his eyes. "You're always under stress. First, there had been Senate and now you worry about the store…"

I stifle the laughter that threatens to bubble up, trying to look stern. "But I have obligations to do! Besides, who else will run it?"

Anakin laughs and stands up, scooping me into his arms and lifting me up. "You didn't change at all," he mutters, shaking his head. "Relax, Padmé. I heard your fierce friend when she arrived a few hours ago."

"Oh," I breathe out, relieved, sitting up to slide off the bed to my hoverchair. I can feel my features stretched into a genuine smile that doesn't want to leave my face, and my head is dizzy—dizzy with happiness, with light-headedness…

Obviously realising what I'm thinking about, Anakin puts me into the hoverchair. "Would you like me to assist you?" he grins at me.

"No, thank you. I'm fine," I laugh. A part of me is seduced by his offer, but another part doesn't want him to think of me as though I were helpless, a damsel in distress.

He cocks his head, amused. "If you wish so. I'll be downstairs." He gives me a short kiss on the lips—too short for my taste—and leaves.

Once in the 'fresher, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It's still the same face that greets me every morning, with no visible changes to it. Yet, taking a closer look, I notice a change in my eyes—they shine brightly, having lost the dead, haunted expression. The corners of my lips curl upwards, and my cheeks are rosy. It seems that some invisible substance that I lost years ago has returned, a substance that fills the hollow in our chests, makes our hearts beat faster, allows us to feel. Usually we don't notice its presence, because it's always there, buried somewhere in our chests, but when it's ripped away from us… it hurts. What is its name? I don't know it, but watching my reflection smile at me, I welcome it back.

However my relief is short-lived. As I brush my teeth, I can't help but wonder what will happen to Anakin and I now. I'll leave this planet and go with him as we decided before, for there is nothing for me here.

Leaving tonight.

I'll see my children. What do they look like? More importantly, how will they receive me? How will they react to a suddenly alive mother, a mother they had never seen? I'm a stranger to them even though I carried them for many months.

Our reunion was sweet and blissful, but it didn't mend the tenuous bond between us, it didn't heal old wounds. This Anakin is not my Anakin anymore—there was something hiding beneath the azure surface of his eyes, something harsh yet also anguished. What was it? I can't recognise it, and that makes me insane. _You just have to wait_, I tell myself, forming my hair into a neat braid. As time passes, everything will be as before again… or nearly everything.

* * *

The light slants through the window, drawing a rigorous geometrical pattern on the floor. The shelves are distant, luminous objects in the distance. I am familiar with every crack on the ceiling—the one that is shaped like a lightning bolt, and another that looks like Master Yoda's head. The third step of the stairs creaks loudly. My nose will always remember a slightly musty smell of the store—a unique mixture of the wood, dust and the technical smell of new holos. This small store has been my home and my prison for nearly five years… I won't see it ever again. This thought both horrifies and excites me. 

"This holo is overpriced," I hear Anakin's melodic voice argue with Kaya. A small smile gracing my features, I descend and peek from the corner.

Anakin shakes a holo pad before Kaya's nose, his lips pressed into a thin line, his hair even more tousled than usual—it's always untidy whenever he's angry, a trait that didn't appear to change over the years. Kaya's reaches out and snaps the holo pad, her grey eyes sending daggers at him. "It's the best history of pod racing I've ever read," she says coolly, cradling the pad to her chest.

Anakin sighs, exasperated. "But the chapter about the pod racers isn't good."

Kaya raises her head in a defensive gesture. "Why? I thought it was great."

Anakin tilts his head to the side, watching Kaya in a nearly pitying way. "First, it is the writer's description of the power units," he says calmly in a tone that is normally used to someone of a reduced mental capability. "Then it is the way he, or, I rather think the writer is a _she_, describes the maximal speed and manoeuvring possibility. According to her, pod racers can perform only very few manoeuvres." Sarcasm drips from his voice like Nubean waterfall.

"But that's true!" Kaya interrupts him, clearly stung. "That's one of the factors that makes pod racing so dangerous!"

Anakin erupts in a bubbling laughter, my favourite laughter. "Preposterous," he manages to snort between fits of laughter. "Pod racers have unlimited manoeuvring possibilities, and they can be much, much faster than" – he jerks his head to the holo in Kaya's arms – "_she_ writes."

"Excuse me, but why do you think that the author is a _she_?" Kaya hisses angrily. I can feel my face broaden in another grin as I shake my head back and forth. She can have quite a temper, and she'd scared many clients on several occasions by her blazing grey eyes on flaming cheeks. But Anakin doesn't look scared—he is amused, which turns Kaya's cheeks to an even more vivid red.

"Because only a woman would describe the only human who'd ever won a race as '_a tiny blue-eyed wonder with cute rosy cheeks, which you want to cuddle, hug and kiss but never let do something that dangerous again_'," Anakin quotes with a scornful edge to his voice, rolling his eyes.

Kaya raises her left eyebrow. "You do have cute rosy cheeks," she admits. "But I don't know who in their right mind would be insane enough to hug and kiss _you_."

Anakin flashes her a dazzling smile. "Believe me, there are a few." His remark wipes a grin from my face. "But that's not the point," he continues, ignoring Kaya's grimace. "My point is, that again, only a woman wouldn't know something as simple as building a hand brake besides the main one, which ensures more safety. Only a woman wouldn't know that you can't disconnect the cable from the minor power unit—it won't increase the speed, it will only break the whole engine. _And_, she actually suggests that—"

Kaya's eyes are as round as the crimson sun of Varykino as she listens to Anakin's fierce tirade. I decide that it's time to intervene.

"Good morning!" I announce my presence loudly, buzzing to a halt between Anakin and Kaya. "Are we getting along well?"

"No," Kaya says shortly, looking at Anakin as though he had a third eye and horns.

"Yes," Anakin purrs at the same time, giving me a brief kiss on the forehead.

Kaya watches us, a sympathetic smile looking at odds with a glint of annoyance on her red face. "You're annoyed with this holo simply because the author described you as 'cute'," she says finally, pointing at the pad she holds closely cuddled to her chest. "And you are not cute."

Anakin raises his left eyebrow with a devilish smirk that would make Obi-Wan's mouth clench in a martyred expectation of another merciless teasing round. But Kaya is not Obi-Wan, and so I seize Anakin by the shoulders, forcing him to turn around with every ounce of my strength, eager to prevent the Civil War in my shop… my former shop. His reluctance swirling in thick, seductive waves around my hands, Anakin turns around and gracefully marches out of the shop. Already by the door, he turns around and peers at the triumphant Kaya.

"You're right, 'cute' is an understatement. Would you say that 'irresistibly handsome' covers me up better?"

Trying to ignore the roaring voice in my head that urges me to yell in agreement at his words, I put my hands on Anakin's chest and push him once more. My mouth twitches slightly as a smile threatens to break through.

"'Unnaturally annoying' would be better," Kaya retorts, pursing her lips. Her face is of such a vivid red under a mane of fire that I'm afraid she might burst in flames any second.

"Get some fresh air," I say hastily to Anakin, giving him another push, my hand lingering unnecessarily on his chest. He smirks at us—a smirk that turns Kaya even redder and makes my breath rattled—and finally leaves.

"How did you marry him?" Kaya mutters, staring at the closing door as she takes a deep, calming breath.

I shrug and smile, certain that she wouldn't want to hear a real explanation—it would take the rest of my life to put into words why I already miss him even though that Anakin's just standing outside the door.

Kaya shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the goofy look on my face. The red retreats slowly, and her face gradually takes its normal colour again. "I'll try to have a normal conversation with him the next time."

"There will be no next time," I say quietly, looking at the stain on the floor—a result of Tilo spilling his soup many months ago. The sight of this stain, scrubbed so many times and faded with time on the beige carpet, triggers countless memories in me—memories of many evenings in the store, full of careless chatter and gentle banter, memories of Kaya's chiming laughter and Tilo's shy, barking one, memories of peaceful quietness of Deralia. They overwhelm me, making me slightly dizzy. I can hear the phantom sound of the rain knocking at my window, smell the soup that Kaya cooks so well, feel the handle of the dust-brush fit neatly into my palm. With a sharp, belated ache under my ribs, I realise that my life wasn't as miserable as I painted it to be… and suddenly, I don't want to say good-bye at all.

Kaya raises her head, confusion passing slowly over her eyes as my words sink in. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice nearly a voice of a child.

With an enormous effort, I force words from my mouth. "I'm leaving tonight."

Kaya blinks. "Tonight?" she asks so quietly that I have to read her lips in order to understand.

I can only offer a weak nod.

Seconds pass one after another, but for us time holds still. For a jagged, painful lull, I even forget about Anakin… and uncertain future that lies ahead of us. For five years, I had always considered my life here a punishment, a prison, a bleak, grey monotony. It had never crossed my mind that my life on Deralia had not been an exile but a… reprieve.

Kaya tries to smile—it's a weak thing, but sincerity shines through it. "Well, the moment Anakin entered this store, I knew that it wouldn't be long before you'd leave with him. The two of you belong together."

I nod again, unable to speak.

"He loves you so much," Kaya continues, her eyes wistful and… old, all traces of the mischief that usually surrounds her gone. "Whatever lies ahead of you, the two of you will manage it."

Triggered by her words, a roll of nausea emerges from my stomach. Childishly, I clamp my wet, trembling hand to my mouth, afraid that my fear will release the prison of my body. "I'm afraid of the future, Kaya. I'm afraid that there was too much damage in the past." My voice sounds as if something were choking me. "I was safe here… and now I'm about to be thrown into the large galaxy again. I feel like a person who tries to stay on the water, but keeps drowning. What if I can't handle it? What if I will drown?"

Kaya casts me a long, sympathetic look and moves to embrace me. "Oh, Rajja… Padmé," she breathes into my hair as her arms rub my back in gentle circles. "You will be able to swim your way back into the life, trust me. I know you, and you never give up. You fight till your last breath." She takes my face between her hands, her eyes fierce and blazing. "You promise me you'll be happy, right?"

I stare deep into Kaya's clear, grey eyes to see a tiny drop of moisture ooze slowly in the corner of her eyes and feel that I'm about to weep too. Her eyes look almost green in the dim light. I've never noticed it before, neither did I notice tiny freckles peek at me shyly from the nearly translucent skin of her cheeks…

My mouth is dry and my voice breaks when I find it again. "I promise you that I will be happy." This is a promise that I'm doing also for myself—I will be happy no matter what awaits me in my future with Anakin. No matter how childish and foolish my words may sound, they are sincere—because I feel that the fear will eat me alive if I do nothing to shield myself from the future trials.

Kaya tries to smile. "That's good," she whispers. "Good."

Her voice becomes nearly inaudible as she leans in to embrace me again. We melt together, and I feel my past, my future and my dreams swirl around me in an invisible blur around the shop.

* * *

Sometimes when you want to stretch the moment into eternity, time to have other plans, causing life to hurry forward in uneven lurches and lulls… until the moment is gone, submerged into nothingness to never be relived again. Like so, my last day on Deralia rushed past me in a thick haze of numbness. I have no memories of it, no impressions… It is as if it never existed. 

The evening comes soon—too soon—and Kaya and Tilo walk us to Anakin's ship to say the last goodbyes. The walk through the forest is quiet and pensive as each of us is sunk into our own gloomy thoughts so much that we are incapable of speaking. Once again, I don't notice the silver beauty surrounding me or the cold prickling my skin.

For years, I had wished nothing more in the world than to be with Anakin again—it is still my deepest desire—and it seems that my wish has been heard. My Knight has returned, true love has been found and broken heart has been mended—my happily ever after from my personal fairy tale has never seemed to be so close. Then why am I so scared? Why is my stomach twisting into an icy knot?

We come to the halt before a sleek, elegant ship standing by the frozen, shimmering lake—the same lake at which we had found each other only yesterday. Anakin slips his hand into mine and smiles down at me. I smile back and forget my worries for the short moment our eyes connect. However, everything returns the moment he looks away.

An awkward silence falls between the four of us as we look at each other, at loss of what to say. This is our final good-bye—a hard, painful moment of parting between friends who may never see each other again. Not as long as the Empire is out there.

"Well," Tilo finally croaks. Wisps of dark hair fall into his face. "Take care of yourself, both of you."

Anakin smiles slightly. "Thank you. You too."

Kaya fixes me with her blazing grey eyes. "We will communicate with each other Padmé, won't we?"

I nod fervently, the proper words evading me.

"We'll see each other again," Kaya promises me, yet I can see uncertainty brew at the bottom of her clear iris.

My mouth trembles, and it's hard to speak. "Of course we will. I want to see your wedding."

The vapour of my promise lingers for a brief instant in the frosty air, and then rises into the vast darkness of the sky above us.

"We'll be happy to have you there—both of you," Tilo says softly.

Anakin offers a grateful half-smile. "A wedding is always good."

A wedding… Anakin and I had exchanged out vows only a few years ago, yet will we be able to keep them? Did we—more importantly—did Anakin keep them during all the years we have been apart?

Another silence stretches between us. A part of me wants to leave this planet at this very moment, because lingering here is pointless and brings only more pain. Yet… I can't simply turn away from my friends, from the planet that harboured me in my loneliness…

Very slowly, I raise my reluctant hand in a gesture of farewell. From the corner of my eyes I see Anakin mirror my gesture. After a moment of slight hesitation, Kaya and Tilo lift their hands as well.

There is nothing more to say.

With one glance at Kaya and Tilo, Anakin and I step into the ship. Once in the cockpit, I rush to the window and peek outside to steal a last glimpse of my friends—my only friends in those five years. They stand hand in hand, never tearing their gazes from us, looking suddenly very small and lonely in the endless ocean of silver snow.

The engine purrs beneath us, eager for the lift-off. I look at Anakin and he pulls me into the soothing warmth of his embrace, kissing the top of my head. With a triumphant roar, the ship lifts off the ground. Very, very soon, Kaya and Tilo's silhouettes shrink to two black points… and then disappear completely.

With a huge lump in my throat, I watch the forests of Deralia sink farther and farther beneath us until they disappear behind black clouds of the mourning sky. Then we rise above the sky, into the atmosphere… and then my second home is nothing more than a small, blue sphere in the black space.

We make a jump to the hyperspace, and Deralia disappears. My old life disappears.

"Padmé," Anakin's quiet voice by my ear interrupts my contemplation of the now empty space.

"Yes?"

He strokes my head, hesitant. "I'm… I'm glad that we're together again. I love you more than anything."

"I love you too, Ani," I whisper back. "I'm just afraid."

His eyes are very tender as he caresses my cheek. "Don't be afraid. We're together, which is all that matters."

I look into his eyes which are scorching with sincerity, and I believe him. I believe that we can manage everything. The knot in my stomach lessens, the cold retreats. "Yes, that's all that matters."

He leans down to kiss me, and I forget about my fears. Deep down, I know that they will return… but I don't want to think about anything except that Anakin is kissing me, that we are truly reunited.

The moment our lips part, he whispers my name.

Lost in each other's arms, we race towards our future through the black space, savouring the last moment of our private little world before the reality catches up with us.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry for the long wait—RL has been crazy, as always. I hope you don't mind the long update… and this chapter is very, very important for the course of the rest of the story. (And of course, I'm **_**very**_** curious as to what you think about it.)**

**As always, thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews, and I'm so very sorry that I can't reply to each of you personally. You are truly amazing people.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The Rebel base is safely hidden underground on the jungle planet of Vuzhon in the Outer Rim. After confirming multiple password checks, Anakin lands our ship carefully into the securely hidden mouth of cave by the brownish rocks. When the engine dies off and my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I see dozens of ships that look like white phantoms in the shadows of the huge cave. Most of them are small starfighters, but there are also a few heavy transporters towering above the X-wings.

Through the window of the cockpit I see a small group of people waiting to greet us—Obi-Wan, Bail and Mon Mothma. I can't tear my eyes away from them as cold waves of icy reality start crashing down at me. Here are people that I loved so much in my past life, people that I'd let down, betrayed by my lies… How can one face them, how can I apologise for some things that cannot be forgiven?

As able to hear my heart hammering savagely within my ribcage, Anakin pulls me into the protective enclosure of his arm, holding me in one piece. I nestle into him and take a deep breath.

The moist air of the cave hits my face as the hatch slides open, and we descend to the others. They smile warmly at me, and I think I smiled back, but I'm not sure—my head feels detached from the rest of my body, and the pulse of blood behind my ears makes a deafening pounding sound that makes me feel dizzy.

Bail is the first one to embrace me. "Welcome back, Padmé," he whispers into my hair, his strong hands rubbing small circles on my back. "We missed you very much."

"I missed you, too," I whisper back, my voice reeling with gratitude.

"Oh, Padmé," Mon gasps as soon as Bail releases me. Her usually guarded mask breaks as she rushes to embrace me, loose strands of hair flying chaotically around her face. "It's so good to have you back."

"Thank you," I choke out.

A warm feeling rises up my chest as Mon and I break apart. I'm grateful and overwhelmed that they accepted me back with open arms, and I am determined to help them as much as I can.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan smiles at me. "It's good to see you here."

I smile back but say nothing.

Somehow, I have the feeling that the price I have to pay for my seclusion and my supposed death still looms ahead of me in the dark corridors of the underground Base.

* * *

There are people everywhere tracking the Empire's every move and expecting an attack at every moment. The base is situated in a maze of vast caves underneath the jungle, and nature's miracles have been left untouched. I have seen the crystal clear surface of the underground lake just by the communication chamber and blue moss which grows in ridiculous patterns before the door to the medical chamber—Anakin and I's next destination. 

"Ani, I haven't walked in years," I tell him for the tenth time as we come to a halt before a grey door not much unlike the hundreds of others I have already seen.

Anakin purses his mouth in a stubborn gesture, his hair an even wilder mane from the moist air. "Still, I'd love Maiia to take a look at you. You told me that you haven't been examined, and she's a good medic."

"What good will that examination do to me?"

His eyes softening, Anakin moves closer to me and strokes my cheek with his gloved thumb. "And what do you have to lose?"

I pout. "It's pointless." But I have to admit that he won this debate.

He senses that. His boyish grin unmarred by my glare, Anakin pushes the entrance button and the door slides aside. The stark, sweet smell of bacta immediately hits my nose as we enter the chamber which is bathed in soft, artificial light. The woman sitting at the desk raises her head at the sound of our entrance and approaches us. A certain glint flares in her dark eyes when she sees me in the hoverchair—a glint of pity that I can't stand to see any longer.

"Hi, Maiia," Anakin smiles at her. "This is Padmé, my wife." he gestures at me. "Would you mind… taking a look at her?"

Something flickers on Maiia's face at the sound of my name, but the expression is gone before I can decipher it. She smiles at me. "Sure, come on in."

Anakin lifts me off the chair and lays me gently on the couch, ignoring my glare. Maiia leans over me with a crackling device in her hand and moves it back and forth along my back.

"How were you injured?" she asks in a detached tone of a professional medic.

"Sith lightning." I cringe inwardly at the memories of Palpatine's ghastly face… the despair… sizzling air smashing my chest.

Out of the corner of my eyes I notice the agony which steals over Anakin's face. He is blaming himself that he didn't come to rescue me soon enough, that he lost the battle with Palpatine, that he didn't look for me during all those years both of us were dead… I want to comfort him, to erase that anguished, haunted look from his face, but I can't.

"Did you… did you undergo any treatment?" Maiia asks, putting the device aside and examining my back with her hands.

"No."

The agony on Anakin's face intensifies; his eyes darken. I think that only now does he begin to realise how broken I was, how broken I still am…

"Why not?" Puzzlement colours Maiia's voice, and her hands pull from my back. "During the early stage there wouldn't have been much that bacta couldn't have healed. I'm sure you would be walking now if you'd undergonethe treatment."

"I thought that paralysis couldn't be healed," I lie.

"Hmm." Maiia pulls her black hair behind her ears and scrutinises the monitor of the device she examined me with, pursing her lips.

"What is it, Maiia?" Anakin bursts, frowning.

"As far as I can tell, the damage to her spinal nerve isn't irreversible," Maiia says slowly, her eyes still on the monitor. "Her soft tissues are also injured to some degree, but it's treatable. Bones are intact. I think"—she looks up Anakin—"she can regain her ability to walk."

It takes several seconds for Maiia's words to sink in for a bright, genuine smile to blossom on Anakin's face, and my heart is racing too. But can't believe what I hear—the words are too good to be true, and I'm afraid. Forgiveness is never, ever without a price. Where is my punishment, my penitence for my betrayal, my cowardice?

"That's wonderful!" Anakin breathes. If we weren't in the med chamber, I'm sure he would have picked me up and spun me around, infecting me with his unconditional joy.

Maiia smiles as well, but there is an edge to her smile, a certain hesitance.

I turn around on the cot and sit up before either Anakin or Maiia can help me. "Thank you," I tell Maiia, my voice surging with gratitude.

She laughs quietly. "I didn't do anything, but you're very welcome."

Anakin grins. "I'm sure that the children will be thrilled about the news." My stomach jolts. "By the way, where are they?"

Maiia smirks. "Oh, they're with Master Yoda and other children, learning the way of the Force."

She and Anakin exchange a glance, the two of them suddenly in the world I can't enter yet—the world full of my children, of the Rebellion activity, of their mutual memories. That past nearly crackles in the room under the depth of their gaze, and I'm a foreigner, an intruder.

Oblivious to my scrutiny, Anakin tries to stifle a grin. "Could you please bring them to my place when they're finished?" he asks casually.

"Of course."

Anakin smiles and nods, then puts me back in my hoverchair. "I won't have to do this much longer," he says lightly, his hands unnecessarily lingering on my shoulder, on my neck.

I sigh. "Pity. I already got used to your carrying me around."

He laughs and presses his lips to my hair. "If you wish to, I'll never get tired of carrying you," he whispers, his hot breath tickling my ear.

Maiia coughs behind us and immediately, Anakin lets go of me, keeping only my hand.

"Sorry," he grins, repentant. I, too, feel the warmth creep around my cheeks and ears.

Maiia rolls her eyes. "Go to your room, but keep in mind that I'll come soon with Luke and Leia," she chuckles, but I believe to hear a warning behind it.

We thank her again and move to the exit. Yet I believe to feel her eyes on my back and already by the door, I turn around. What I read in her face makes my breath turn into a cold and hard substance in my chest, blood pounding behind my ears.

Her face, alive and friendly only seconds ago, is a stone mask. Her eyes are haunted by bitterness—pure and unadulterated, the kind that doesn't heal as time passes. The force of it nearly knocks me out of my chair. Even as the door slides shut between us, I can still feel her stare burn my back, and my shivers have nothing to do with the natural coolness of a cave.

* * *

"So, who is Maiia?" I ask as lightly as I can manage as the door to Anakin's chambers hisses shut behind us. The light atmosphere that enveloped us upon hearing the news about my condition in the med chamber has evaporated as soon as the words escape from my lips. 

Cold and foreign in the dim artificial light, Anakin tenses slightly—a ghost of frown on his smooth forehead, a breath of shadow passing over his clear iris—but it speaks volumes to me, and I can feel the hole in my chest screech in anticipation, ready to rip me apart.

"She is a friend."

I raise one eyebrow, urging him to go on.

His shoulders heaving slightly, Anakin strips off his robe and throws it onto the bed, where it lands in a crumpled heap of black.

"She… she took care of me during my catatonic phase," he clarifies quietly, carefully avoiding my eyes.

I frown. "Oh."

Anakin casts a quick look at me. "I don't remember it well," he mutters, shrugging slightly. He walks to the bed and slumps onto it, wearily rubbing his forehead with his mechanical hand. "My memories are blurry, indistinct. I remember only cold… numbness… emptiness. Everything else disappeared."

I don't know what to say. The edges of the hole in my heart start burning.

Anakin stares at the streams of dampness on the opposite wall as he speaks again, his voice guarded. "I think I'll be forever grateful to her and to everyone else for the support they've given to me." The corners of his mouth lift in a weak smile that makes his eyes even sadder. "The children like her, and she likes them."

"That's good," I say softly, inspecting my creased hands folded in my lap.

Something flickers on Anakin's face. "I haven't been a good father, Padmé," he nearly whispers, his blue eyes seeming to darken as they stare through the grey wall into the past that has been so painful for both of us. "I'm away far too much, and when I'm here, I'm never really there for them. Luke and Leia deserve a better father, not a half-empty shell. Of course, Obi-Wan spends much time with them, and the twins adore him, but"—Anakin chuckles softly—"he's anxious not be alone with them for too long."

I hang my head. The pounding of my heart echoes loudly in the cool air, the thin skin on my chest wailing with each heartbeat as the hole threatens to ripple open. Anakin's mind is in the past, in his own pain as he carries on with his tale, and his every word continues my search for blame.

"Luke and Leia are wise for their ages, they know that a father isn't supposed to be like this. I try to block them, but they're strong, and I think they occasionally steal glimpses of what I am—was—inside. I can tell that they worry about me." He looks at me, and the depth of anguish in his eyes takes my breath away. "It's not normal, Padmé. Not normal at all—children aren't supposed to be worried about their parents."

"I'm sorry," I whisper barely audible.

Anakin shakes his head. "No. Don't be sorry, Padmé," he says softly, his voice scorching with sincerity so much I can feel it flowing through my veins, warming me. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Everything is different now that you're here."

"And Maiia-" I begin, then break off, unsure what I want to say.

His face a mask of pain, Anakin avoids my eyes, a sigh heaving through his chest. His fist clenches and, after a momentary hesitation, falls powerlessly into his lap.

A heavy silence falls between us.

My mind strangely blank, I watch his golden hair shine dimly in the cold, bleak artificial light. I can sense that I'm about to hear something I don't want to know, something that should better sink into the sands of past behind us to never be spoken of again. But people are strange creatures—they look for pain in their already hard lives, desperate to know things that should better stay hidden. I am no different.

Anakin's eyes are intense pools of blue when he looks at me again. "Padmé, what if I died and someone else came into your life? Someone you loved. Not even close to what you were capable of, that love only a weak echo of what you felt once, but enough to make you want to live on? Enough to make your children happy?"

Once again, I'm at loss at what to say. My mouth slightly open, I stare back at him, my skin burning from the apology emanating in waves from Anakin's eyes. Awareness begins to seep through me like acid.

A bleak, listless smile twists Anakin's face. "I'd have wanted you to be happy, Padmé, if I were gone. I'd have wanted you to find someone who you could grow older with. Yet, I wasn't sure if you'd wanted me to move on… I wasn't ready to move on."

"I'd have wanted you to move on." My voice is strained even to my ears, but the words sound sincere. They _are_ sincere.

Anakin sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb. "Maiia is my friend, but there is more than friendship between us. In many ways, she's like a child—light, innocent, untouched by Darkness. I'm very comfortable around her, and the pain is less when she's around." His haunted blue eyes peek at me from between his calloused fingers. "But I don't know what happens now that everything has changed."

I don't know what to make out of his words. There is jealousy and bitterness surging within me, ready to splash out with a roar like water off the rocks. I can feel my jaw clenching, and I try to soften my expression because I suspect his honesty must have cost him greatly.

Very gently, I take his hand in mine, ignoring the agony rippling through me as the hole screeches menacingly. "Everything will work out for the best, Ani. We'll just have to wait and see."

Anakin casts a long look at our hand entwined together, at my thumb brushing circles on his palm. "Yes. Somehow, everything will be fine," he says quietly, a ghost of the crooked smile I love so much spreading slowly across his face… but I see a flicker of doubt at the bottom of his azure eyes.

The hiss of an opening door makes me wince involuntarily. Maiia enters the room with a small dark-haired girl in her one arm, and a little blue-eyed boy holding her other hand. Her dark eyes flash to our entwined hands, but this once, I don't pay attention to her, for my eyes are glued to the children. Anakin's children. My children. Luke and Leia.

My heart does a mad jolt in my chest, and excitement floods over me.

"Someone wanted to see their parents," Maiia smiles, putting Leia on the floor.

The girl eyes me warily, and I can feel my smile vanish slowly as other emotions rise in my chest. Anxiety. Fear. Uncertainty.

"Thanks, Maiia," Anakin smiles back, jumping up from the bed and squatting beside Luke. The boy's smile as he looks at his father is dazzling. He has the same blue eyes like Anakin, the same tousled blonde hair, the same tenacity hiding in the yet fine lines of his jaw…

Maiia casts an indecipherable glance at me—yet her eyes are void of coldness and animosity—and walks out, the door sliding shut behind her.

"Luke, Leia, I want you to meet someone," Anakin says lightly, taking my hand. "This is your mother."

A heavy 'thump' of my heart seems to fill the room, bouncing off the damp grey walls.

A thick silence falls over the four of us. Luke and Leia stare at me, their childish faces cool and irresponsive. Beads of perspiration trickle slowly down my spine as I stare back at them, searching for a shadow of affection in their eyes… but there is none.

"Hello," I begin unsurely. My voice cracks mid-word. "I'm so… so happy to finally see you. I-I missed you very much."

Anakin's eyes dart to me and back to the children. He's smiling—a gesture that is required by the situation—but this smile doesn't light his face.

Leia is the first to break the silence. "Missed us?" she asks. In any other situation her sweet voice would have been music to my ears, but now it cuts through me.

I try to keep my expression calm, but my voice is hoarse. "Yes. I missed you very much."

Leia grins. This smile is not kind, making Anakin frown and the hole in my chest burn anew.

"How could you have missed us when you never saw us?"

"I-"

"Leia," Anakin scolds gently, but there is a warning in his voice.

The girl's large brown eyes narrow, her lips purse into a thin line. "You know that too, Daddy! She left us, she's not our Mummy." She turns to her brother who is now staring at me with the most peculiar expression. "Right, Luke?"

Luke looks at the floor. "Yes," he says barely audibly.

Anakin gets up. Tall and dark, he towers over the children. "Luke, Leia," he begins sternly, but our daughter interrupts him.

"Don't, Daddy!" she nearly screeches, stumping with her little foot. "She's no one to us. If she loved us, she would have come to us sooner!"

I clamp my hand to my mouth, feeling the raw edges of the hole tear through my chest.

Anakin's eyes widen. "Leia," he says quietly, his voice shaking with disbelief.

Leia stares back at him defiantly, trace of an all too familiar stubbornness sparkling in her eyes. "No, Daddy," she nearly wails. "I can't. Come on, Luke," she calls to her brother. "Let's go find Maiia." Without another glance at me, she turns away and almost runs out of the door.

But Luke lingers on and looks at me, his gaze nearly apologetic. Sending a very slight smile at me, he slowly turns around and trudges after his sister.

I sit in the chair, frozen. The hole tears my body apart, the jagged edges burning. The pain should have made me double back and scream, but it doesn't. I feel numb, staring at the closed door but still seeing only my daughter's cold face. Somehow, I can't believe that this is real. A part of me hopes that it isn't.

"Padmé?" Anakin's quiet voice rustles by my ear. His hand grips my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Without thinking about it, I turn around and nestle into his chest. All my life, I hated showing signs of weakness and, even with Anakin, I have always been in control, been strong—for both of us. Yet now, I can't put that mask. There is nothing worse for a mother than be rejected by her child, by her own flesh and blood. Wild and uncontrollable, the sobs burst from my chest, and I don't hold them.

Anakin holds me, gently stroking my back and my hair. "Don't worry, Padmé," he says quietly. "They will come around. It will take some time, but they will be there."

I have no answer. I let my tears fall on his tunic, which is already wet, crying out the misery I'd held for five agonisingly long and hard years. There is a tiny part of me that wishes that I had never met Anakin, never left Deralia, never tasted the bitter taste of rejection. Maybe, oblivion was better than harsh truth. Maybe, sometimes hiding from the problems can be better than facing them, especially if it's too late.

Yet these questions are tiring and pointless. Vaguely, I feel Anakin lift me up in his arms and gently lay me on bed. He lies beside me, wrapping his arms around me.

Eventually, my eyes run dry from tears and exhaustion overtakes me.

Through the haze of sleep I vaguely register Anakin getting up, and leaving, kissing my cheek before he does. My body wants to protest against his leaving, but I'm too sleepy to drag my lids open or to stretch out my arm to him. Exhausted though I may be, one part of my body still roars in protest at the prospect of being left alone.

It is my toe—it stirs.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Oh my goodness, I'm SO sorry it took me so long to update! Good news: I've got two chapters written and ready to be posted as of now. I'll wait a few days with the new update, though. Bad news: after those two chapters, you may have to wait months for another installment. Real life is just insane at the moment.

Huge thanks to those of you who kept nudging me!! *hugs* I wouldn't have been able to make it this far without you.

As always, the more you review, the sooner the next update is going to be!

What happened in the last chapter: Padme and Anakin reunited, and he took her to the Rebel Base. Even though they still love each other more than ever, five years of deception have opened a huge rift in their relationship. Padme was introduced to Maya, a very close friend of Anakins, and met Luke and Leia, who were quite reluctant at accepting her as their mother. The question is, will they ever?

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The sound of an opening door wakes me up. My breath rattled, I sit up, expecting to see Anakin, or—my heart does a mad, almost nauseating jolt in my chest—Leia to come and see me. But it is Maiia.

Disappointment burning in my throat, I try to smile at her, and her almond-shaped eyes smile back in the same manner.

"Sorry to wake you," she apologises. "I was searching for Leia."

My eyes widen. "Why, what happened to her?" I gasp.

Maiia raises her hands quickly. "No, it's nothing to worry about," she tries to reassure me. "Sometimes she likes to disappear, and we let her have her fun. But now"—she looks at the floor, clearly uncomfortable—"Anakin needs to talk to her."

I have a very shrewd idea as to why would Anakin need to talk to her, and judging by the embarrassed heaving of Maiia's shoulders, so does she. My stomach drops, memories burning every inch of my skin like acid.

Maiia goes to the door. "Well, I better leave," she says hastily.

But there is something else I want to talk to her about.

"Wait!" I call. She turns around, expectant.

I bite my lip and tug a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You told me that there was a chance that I might regain my ability to walk again," I say awkwardly. "And a couple of hours ago, a strange thing happened—my toe twitched."

A most peculiar expression crosses over Maiia's face. "Are you sure?" she asks slowly.

I nod.

She smiles uncertainly. "This is good."

Suddenly, there is tension in the air. It clouds from the slightly damp walls, floats from beneath the bed, swirling around Maiia and I, so thick that I can nearly lift it with my finger.

"You said that treatment is possible," I continue. "Could you… could you help me to be able to walk again?"

Maiia's face stiffens as thousands of different emotions flicker over it. Her dark brown eyes suddenly pitch black in the dim light, she nods very slowly.

"I can try," she says quietly. "But this is no light task."

My mouth twitches in what I hope is smile. "Thank you," I say as quietly. "Just one more thing… could we keep it a secret from Anakin?"

She frowns, clearly thinking why I would want to keep something that important a secret. To tell the truth, I don't know it either—it just feels right to me. And there is a piece of me that dreams how Anakin's eyes will light up when one day I'll gracefully rise from the hoverchair, how we will run in the jungle together on that day, hand in hand, how we can swim together like we did on Naboo…

"Of course, we can try. But I hate keeping secrets from him."

For a fleeting second, there is guilt reeling in her eyes—an emotion so intense and haunted that makes my breath stuck in my throat. But the moment is gone, and her eyes express nothing but sadness again.

She nods at me and walks to the door. Already by the exit, she hesitates and turns around.

"You know, he's happier than I've ever seen him," she says conversationally, smiling slightly. "It's astonishing how much your coming back healed him."

I stare at her black hair twisted in a rigorous knot, shining blue in the dim artificial light, at total loss what to say. Before I come up with a decent answer, Maiia hits the opening button and disappears behind the door.

***

The Base is enormous, and the maze is breathtaking. The natural darkness of the cave is dispersed by the dim glow of artificial lamps carefully installed onto the ceiling. My skin seems to be tinged a soft orange from their light. I fly randomly from one path to another, searching for Anakin or the twins, yet they are nowhere in sight. There are simply too many beings here—I've come across the Jedi, droids, and technicians talking about the Imperial spy droids.

The Empire is still out there, cruel and ready to attack. The vastness and the gloomy darkness of the cave make me feel trapped, and the sensation of utter helplessness rolls over me with a wave of cold sweat under the thick fabric of my tunic. The life on the Base is at the edge of a knife, waking up every day to check the skies and feel a brief surge of relief that we haven't been discovered by the Empire yet, that there still at least one more day to plan, to prepare for the fight, to live…

I come to a halt before a wide arch forking into three passages, all of them equally dark and winding. There is a detailed map over my head, but it says little to me. Where could my family be—somewhere down the central one, or did they follow the left path? I wrap my arms around me and take a deep breath, regretting once more my inability to call upon the Force and track them down.

The faint echo of approaching footsteps comes out of the depths I left behind me. I turn around just in time to see a man clad in beige robes emerge from the corner, and I smile as I recognise him. It is Obi-Wan.

His eyebrows rise into his greying hair. "Padmé?"

"Hello, Obi-Wan," I reply, buzzing closer to him.

"Are you searching for Anakin?" he asks with a knowing smile.

I nod, then chuckle ruefully. "This place is so large!" I gesture with my hands vaguely somewhere to the ceiling.

"Yes, it takes some time to get used to it. But don't worry, Padmé—within few weeks you'll feel like you were born here." His smile is reassuring, but his eyes tell me that he likes the caves no more than I do.

"I guess," I mutter vaguely, rubbing my shoulders in an attempt to warm them.

Obi-Wan continues to scrutinise me. "Anakin doesn't like it here either," he says quietly. "If it weren't for Luke and Leia, he would hardly return to the Base."

"And the twins?" I ask breathlessly.

He shrugs. "They are children. They love playing hide and seek here, or just wander around. The Rebellion is just like a big game for them… although they know everything about the danger, and surprisingly, they take it seriously." He gazes unseeingly at the moist walls glimmering softly from the light, shaking his head back and forth in the tiniest gesture. "They are very mature for their ages…"

Leia's sweet face, set in a cold mask of indifference, floats before my eyes. Mature she may be, my daughter didn't pause, didn't give me a chance to explain myself. She and her brother simply left. Or am I being the childish one, hoping for a hug and 'Mummy I love you' after everything that had happened?

Obi-Wan chuckles suddenly. "If someone had told me several years ago that my cocky and rebellious Padawan would have children as intelligent and mature as Luke and Leia are, I would've never believed them. Although, they can be some little devils at times."

"People change," I say quietly. "Anakin isn't the same person he used to be."

Avoiding Obi-Wan's intent stare, I look at the three winding passages before me. Like in fairy tales, the left one—the narrowest one—leads to death, the middle one to happiness, and the right one—the darkest one—is the path to the unknown. Which path is ours? For all the changes we have been through, for all the pain and agony that lie between us, yet for all the love that is there, which path will we choose?

I feel Obi-Wan's eyes on me as he lays his hand on my shoulder. "Come on," he says softly. "I'll lead you to them."

Guided by the Force, he steps into the right passage.

Our steps echo faintly in the eternal moisture; an underground stream in the distance murmurs something. The path twists round, descending, and the half-dried layer of sweat on my back makes me shiver even despite the stiffness of the suddenly hot air. There are openings on the walls—pitch dark, sinister hollowness, and several times we had to step over narrow bridges built over large cracks and pitfalls opening right beneath out feet. It is a dark and lifeless road.

"What can they possibly do in this passage?" Obi-Wan mutters anxiously, crossing over another narrow bridge, the sound of churning water roaring dangerously underneath. I have the advantage of simply flying over it.

"What's wrong with it?"

"There is nothing wrong with it," Obi-Wan replies stiffly, casting an eloquent glance at chasms on the walls. "I just don't like where it leads."

I catch up with him, pulling a damp tendril of hair from my eyes. "And where does it lead?"

Obi-Wan sighs heavily. "This station is designed to self-destruct if the damages from the hostile attack are too severe—we can't afford the Empire getting any files in case we lose. Those files include the locations of the surviving Jedi, our allies, our plans… Self-destruction can be cancelled either from the main computer, or from the main generator which is where we're heading to"—he points with his hand ahead—"However, it is also possible to destroy it from there."

I frown. "They must have wanted some privacy."

"I think so too," Obi-Wan agrees with me, though his mouth is set in a disapproving gesture.

We continue descending in hollow silence broken only by the sound of Obi-Wan's feet and the soft buzzing of my hoverchair. A part of me wonders whether I'm masochistic, for I am desperate to talk my children who turned away from me. Automatically, I draw my arms over my heavy chest, as if trying to squeeze myself so tightly that the hole has no chance of ripping me apart.

After a while, the echoes change—I can distinguish distant voices bouncing off the moist walls. Even though they almost merge with the murmur of the underground stream, I hear a man's voice arguing with a little girl. With every step we take, the voices grow clearer and clearer, and very soon, we are close enough to make out words. The air is almost unbearably hot and vibrates with the power of the generator.

Obi-Wan halts and casts me a serious look that it almost grim. "Anakin, Luke and Leia are ahead—I'm sure you can already hear them."

I nod and mutter something incomprehensible. My stomach does a mad jolt.

"I better leave you alone with them," he says. With the slightest smile, he turns around and goes back.

For a moment, I stare after him, listening to the echo of his retreat, clasping my wet, shaking hands. For a fleeting second, I believe to hear the echo whispering _'should've taken the left tunnel'_ at me, but then I understand that it was only a trick of my imagination. Slowly, almost involuntarily, I take a deep breath and move forwards, to the voices and to the humming of the machine.

"—and then Master Yoda told me that strong with the Force I was," Leia's sweet voice rolls at me from beyond the corner.

"How could you have spoken with your Mother like that?" Anakin interrupts her. His voice is bitter and cold.

"She's not our mother yet," Luke intervenes quietly.

Stopping just behind the corner from their line of sight, I picture my son looking at his feet as he speaks, small and yet already full of dignity.

"Then, Luke and I tried to levitate Master Yoda with the Force—you know, just to try it out on a living creature, he's small enough so we thought it'd be easy to lift him—" Leia babbles on, ignoring the rising tension in the air that even I can feel.

"How can you even think that?" Anakin nearly hisses, his voice trembling with angry disbelief. "She carried you for nine long months, she gave you birth and she loves you. _Of course_, she is your mother."

"I don't—"Luke starts and breaks mid-word, apparently under his father's glare.

"—but we couldn't. Master Yoda blocked us, tapped his stick and said that—"

"Leia, will you stop that?" Anakin says calmly, each word separate and distinct.

Her reluctance nearly palpable, she obeys, and a deep silence is a heavy weight on my ears.

"Please, understand," Anakin says softly, wearily. "That your mother had no choice. She suffered a lot, too."

"Oh no, she had choice!" Leia interrupts. "She faked her death because she didn't love us, because she didn't want us. She could have returned to us, but she chose not to. She left us, she left you, and if she suffers now, she deserves it!"

Leia's words linger in the air and then seep through my skin into my veins, burning hot and painful. Behind the corner, there's a sharp intake of breath and a loud, ringing silence.

"She's here," Luke says quietly. I believe to feel his blue eyes pierce the thick stone and stare directly at me.

My cover blown, I have no other alternative than to leave my hiding spot and fly forwards. The loud humming of the generator—a magnificent pillar of a machine—hits my face in a wave of hot, metallic air. Leia's eyes are narrowed with contempt, an expression looking at odds with her slightly plump face, with her dark brown hair neatly made in two braids. Anakin's face is inscrutable, but Luke looks at me with the strangest glint in his eyes that is almost sympathetic.

"I can explain everything," I nearly whisper. A part of me is sickened at how apologetic, almost pleading my voice sounds. How unappealing I must look—weak, self-conscious, aged, sweaty… I was different before. I was strong, beautiful, self-confident—where did it all go? Or is old Padmé merely sleeping beneath that new persona I became?

Leia's face rivals Palpatine's in her coldness as she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a thin, colourless line. "There's nothing to explain. And now, I'm going to see Maiia."

Without any further glance at me, without looking at anyone, she storms off, her braids dangling behind her, and this time, Anakin doesn't stop her. He just continues staring at me, his face almost as blank and lifeless as on that fateful day when he found me in my shop on Deralia.

Looking determinedly at the floor, Luke follows his sister. Without thinking about it, acting only on instincts—or on desperation that is swallowing me—I grab his arm and spin him around to face me.

"Luke," I breathe. My arm is shaking badly, like the rest of my entire body.

Surprisingly gently, Luke takes my arm with his small fingers and lowers it onto my lap. His eyes bore deep into mine, and I see no contempt there, no hatred. Only sympathy and compassion, pure and unconditional.

"Give us time, M-m-mummy," he says softly. For a fleeting moment, he gives me a light squeeze, and before I can register his touch, he turns around and runs away, following Leia. I stare after him open-mouthed, rubbing the spot on my hand where he touched me.

"That went better than I expected it would," Anakin's voice says behind me. A moment later his hand touches my shoulder. "Even though my son… our son has always been very compassionate, I didn't even dare to hope that he'd accept you so quickly."

"He hasn't accepted me yet," I contradict, still staring at the blackness that swallowed him. "And Leia…" I swallow and break off, unable to continue.

Anakin's mechanical hand tightens around my shoulder so that it almost hurts. "Well, what did you expect, Padmé? A hug, a kiss and 'I love you'?"

I hang my head. "I didn't… But I didn't expect _that_ either."

Anakin sighs behind me. His grip loosens somewhat. "She's only a child, and it's not easy for her. Try to understand her."

I spin around and stare at him, but he's avoiding my eyes, staring at the ceiling as though it will crash if he averts his gaze from it. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are an icy blue substance—not my Ani's eyes. My stomach jitters strangely.

"It's just hard for me," I whisper, the words a heavy, viscous mass on my tongue. "I'm a mother who has been rejected. And it hurts… when she keeps talking about Maiia."

Anakin stares down at me, and his facial expression is _wrong_, horribly wrong. Memories rise up within me with a sickening roll of nausea.

"Maiia has been a better mother figure for them so far," he says barely audible. "And you... you could have returned to us, but you chose not to, and...and..." His voice cracks. "I don't know if I'll ever, ever forgi-"

The generator emits a loud, humming sound and Anakin breaks off mid-word. Nearly blind from disbelief, I stare into his cold blue eyes for miles and miles till the very bottom, yet seeing nowhere a sign of apology or lie. The machine hums dangerously again, the dance of green and red control lights is a smear to my eyes.

Anakin's expression softens; the frozen blue of his eyes melts. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean that."

But I know he did. He opens his mouth to say something, but a shrill beeping of a comlink stops him. His eyes still on me, he activates it, and I register a vague surprise at Utuug's bluish image rising from the tiny gadget.

"Anakin, we need you in the conference room," Utuug says hastily.

Anakin frowns. "What is it?"

The other Jedi's face is grave and I feel chills running down my spine despite the unbearable heat.

"Our scouts report that the Empire has found our location."


End file.
